We The People: The Fifty-Fourth Hunger Games
by LadyCordeliaStuart
Summary: Feel the power! Exercise your civic duty. Full, sorry.
1. Chapter 1

**Fifty-fourth because the fifty-third were won by our very own Enobaria Jager. Since she was a canon Victor, this does not break the Career loss streak and I am still hoping for a Career victory to happen soon.**

 **It's time for another voting Games! I love how I'm so predictable multiple people guessed this would be a voting Games because of the interval since the last one.**

 **For new people: voting Games are stories where you decide everything. In normal stories, the Victor is still mainly decided by audience reaction. They're not necessarily the most popular every time, but they're always someone that most of the readers at least don't hate. But in a voting Games, the Victor is decided entirely by reader vote. You send in a number of picks for who you want to live and who you want to die. The number decreases as the Tributes dwindle, and in the last bit, you vote only for who you want to win. Sometimes there are other things to vote for as well, like this time, you vote on the Arena.**

 **In the past, people have gotten REALLY invested in these Games. Child's Play almost started World War II, and Survivor absolutely DID start World War IV. You're allowed to get as involved as you want. People run campaigns, rally friends and other users, and do all sorts of things to lobby for one Tribute or another. It's YOUR vote, and you can be as strategic as you want. You can even withhold votes if it furthers your cause. For this reason I suggest voting by PM, but reviews are allowed if you want to risk it.**

 **I've learned my lesson about guest reviewers. Non-submitters ARE allowed to vote, but their votes count as 1/5 of a normal vote. In cases where fractions divide one placing from another, I'll use my judgement to determine which pick reflects the readers' wishes. And that's my ONLY input. Everything else involving placement is up to you.**

* * *

 **IMPORTANT NOTE: SilverflowerxRavenpaw currently has the 7f slot and would like to trade if anyone who got assigned a random slot doesn't want their slot. She is seeking male slots. If anyone else wants to swap, I can list them too.**

 **Tribute List:**

 **One male: Royce Triatho- 17 (Career)  
One female: Vera Triatho- 17 (Career)**

 **Two male:** **Cormac Abrams- 18 (Career**

 **Two female: Siobhan Harrigan- 18 (Career)**

 **Three male: Barnaby Mercator- 12 (seeking allies)**

 **Three female: Lulu Chilcott- 16 (With Faust and all)**

 **Four male: Faust Xantina (finally)**

 **Four female: bulletproofreed**

 **Five male: monkeypower**

 **Five female: Rachel "Switch" Larson- 17 (open to allies)**

 **Six male: Jules Maserari- 18 (seeking allies)**

 **Six female: Demi Johal- 16 (loner)**

 **Seven male: aceswims**

 **Seven female: SilverflowerXRavenpaw**

 **Eight male: Brocade Ristallo- 15 (allying with Faust)  
Eight female: Dagny Sigurdson- 12 (Looking for allies her age or one older male)**

 **Nine male: paperairline**

 **Nine female: Quinoa Farmer- 12 (Looking for allies her age or one older ally *cough* sounds like Dagny *cough*)**

 **Ten male: Osiris Horatio- 16 (Allying with Faust and all)**

 **Ten female: Aspasia Sommer- 17 (Seeking allies)**

 **Eleven male: liamll**

 **Eleven female: Daffodil Starshine- 16 (open to allies)**

 **Twelve male: Thunderous Copper- 17 (Allying with Faust and all)**

 **Twelve female: Penelope Ruto- 17 (Allying with Faust and all)**

 **If you're in a slot you didn't reserve, it means your top pick was taken and I filled in a random slot to ensure you got one.**

* * *

 **It's already time for the first vote! What should the Arena be?**

 **Deciduous forest- boring, but hospitable enough to force most deaths to be via Tributes**

 **Scottish Highlands- maybe I'll incorporate some legends?**

 **Desert- one of the dreaded harsh Arenas**

 **Taiga- Cold, lots of pine trees, cover and concealment, wildlife, maybe Siberian tigers**

 **They're all less bombastic this year to balance out last Games.**


	2. One Reaping

Royce Triatho- District One male (17)

I was so glad I lived in One. The volunteers and Academy meant the only thing we would have had to worry about was all taken care of. Without the Games, I could enjoy life in the richest, prettiest District in Panem. We had enough money to eat and have a house and even have extras. Best of all, we had money to take care of Vera.

Vera wasn't always my sister, but that didn't change anything. She'd been my sister for two years, since my family adopted her. And boy, did she deserve it. I'd never imagined things like what she told me about her life. The world got a little colder that day. But knowing about all the sad things just made me determined to bring more happy things into the world, like convincing my parents to take Vera in.

Bubbles was getting older, but she was still nice-looking. It was amazing how ladies did that- they changed into a different pretty when they got older, but they were still pretty. She wore a yellow polka-dotted dress. Based on what my mother said about Capitolite jewelry orders of late, polka dots were _in._ It worked on dresses, but not so well in diamond rings, but my mother gave the customers what they asked for.

"Good morning, District One!" Bubbles said. "Are you ready to find out our lucky volunteers?"

 _LOL, she's not even trying to hide it anymore,_ I thought. Everyone knew we were trained, but usually we were supposed to at least _try_ to keep it discreet. There were a fet hoots and cheers in response to her question.

"Ladies first this time!" she said. "Diaspora Glint! Do we have any volunteers?"

"I volunteer as Tribute!"

My brain couldn't compute what my ears just heard. My head snapped in the direction I knew Vera was standing and I saw her just closing her mouth after she volunteered.

 _What? No… No!_

What was she doing? She wasn't even trained! Why would she do this? She knew it wasn't a good idea, too. She looked heartbroken. I willed her to look over at me, but she kept her eyes on the ground as she started walking.

"And now for the gentlemen," Bubbles said, as panic bubbled up and overwhelmed me until I couldn't think. "Masculinity Andros!"

"I volunteer as Tribute!" I blurted. And immediately I thought, _what have I done?_

I had done the only possible thing that could make this worse. Now Vera was going into the Arena _and_ she had to worry about me. I had some training, but I'd only ever dabbled. I wasn't ready for this either!

I was so caught up in my troubles it took me a minute to hear the screams.

"No! _I_ volunteer! _Me!"_ Luster Eminence, the chosen volunteer, yelled. He shoved aside the boys around him and barreled toward the stage.

"I'm sorry, we can only have one volunteer," Bubbles said. Luster kept screaming, both at her and at me, and others joined in, jeering and attacking me. Peacekeepers had to drag him away and flank me as I walked to the stage.

 _Wow, I really did it this time._ Vera was still too upset to look at me, and all of One hated me for stealing valor. Nowhere to go but up, right?

* * *

Vera Triatho- District One female (17, 7 at time of POV)

Nadia and I held hands as we walked home from our playdate at the neighbors. We didn't often get to walk home alone after dark, but it was only _just_ after dark, and this was a safe part of a safe District.

"We're home!" Nadia yelled as I opened the screen door and we walked in. Leon and Ellie didn't come greet us, but that was fine. They were probably busy kissing or other stuff parents couldn't do when kids were around.

"Why are all the lights off?" I wondered as I flipped one on. The house wasn't messy or anything. The lights were just all off. Leon was never one of those dads that grumbled about electricity bills.

"Maybe they're watching IV," Nadia said. I didn't hear the TV, but they might be watching something quiet. Nadia ran into the living room. As I started to follow, I heard her scream.

"What's wrong?!" I yelled, and I ran after her. She was screaming like someone just died.

I started screaming too when I reached her. Leon hadn't come to the door because he was lying on the floor dead. Ellie hadn't come because the man behind her was holding her up by the arms. The woman next to him was holding Ellie's head up so the awful bug cut on her throat could bleed. Ellie was trying to tell us to go, but she couldn't make any noise other than tiny gasps.

" _Mama!"_ I screamed. Nadia hadn't stopped screaming since the first, and she hadn't moved. I grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the front door. We had to run and get the police and the ambulance. They could fix Ellie.

The man dropped Ellie, and I heard her hit the floor. He ran after us and grabbed both of our arms with his. I scratched at him and tried to get away, but he was too big and strong. The woman came and helped him, picking up Nadia around the waist as the man picked me up. Ellie's blood was all over his hands, and it smeared on me and my dress when he picked me up. They carried us out of the house and threw us into a car, the woman sitting in the back with us so we couldn't jump out.

"What do you want?" I asked, crying so hard it came out all funny-sounding. Nadia clung to me and I shielded her with my arms.

"We want you," the woman said.

"Why? We didn't do anything," I said.

"Because we're your real parents," the woman said.

For the next four years, Nadia and I were slaves to the people who said they were our parents. We did their cooking and cleaning and when it wasn't right, we hurt for weeks. When I was twelve years old, Nadia and I came home from school to a home swarming with Peacekeepers, and a team of medics wheeling out two sheet-covered stretchers. From the Peacekeepers I learned two things. One, that Chia and Golden weren't lying about being our parents. Two, that they weren't lying when they said they were assassins and would kill us if we did anything wrong, either. When the Peacekeepers finally found them, they didn't send officers. They sent snipers.

I never told anyone about my past. When I was fifteen, I got a job in a bakery so Nadia and I could move out of the orphanage. That was where I met Royce. He was everything I never thought life could be. He was sweet, and gentle, and kind, and for the first time in my life, I felt safe telling someone. And when I did, I saw the world go a little colder in his eyes.

* * *

 **Royce:** **has large blue eyes that are tinted with flecks of green and short, choppy brown hair. He's on the taller side, around six feet in height, with a long scar down the edge of his face (from a cat). He's fairly pale. He also has a very sharp nose.**

 **Vera:** **Appearance: Vera has light blond hair and hazel eyes. She has a scar on her left cheek and on her upper neck. Her skin tone is a fair peach color and she is average height. She is a bit underweight.**

 **Shoutout to** **Ms. and Mr. Glint, who thought "diaspora" was a pretty luxury term and didn't know it meant the scattering of a people group.**


	3. Two Reaping

**This took so long because I just did a photoshoot underwater for swimming training and I was SO TIRED LOL. All day long swimming in uniform.**

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

The class, for once, was silent. This happened once a year, when the choices for volunteer were announced.

 _Females,_ the screen in the pit of the auditorium flashed. It blinked again and again, and each time I hoped that maybe it would be the time that the names blinked into reality.

 _Females_

 _Selected Volunteer: Tamarind Goethe_

 _Not me._ After all I did, it wasn't my name flashing on the screen. I wasn't disappointed, or ashamed of failure. I hadn't failed. My name wasn't up there because of ignorant, misguided opinions about me. I didn't fail. I got robbed.

 _Reserve Volunteer: Symphony Jonquil_

 _That_ one pissed me off. They didn't even give me the booby prize. I deserved to be going to the Arena, and they didn't even give me second billing.

 _Placings:_

 _3rd: Allure Bouffant_

 _4th: Desire Chaney_

 _5th: Valentine Dumonde_

 _6th: Tiffany Haute_

 _7th: Siobhan Harrigan_

 _Seventh_ place. Unacceptable. Some people might have turned inwards, swearing off training to stew in bitterness and avarice. That wasn't me. I was mad as hell, but I was going to do something about it. They thought I blew my shot and wasn't worth their time. I would have to force them to change their minds.

"Girl, tough break," Tiffany said, coming up to me as the students dispersed. "You want to hit up some bars with me and maybe get in a fight?"

"No, thanks," I said. Tiffany was a fun girl, and we'd gone bar-hopping plenty of times and maybe our names and pictures were on a _few_ walls. But I'd been cutting back on that stuff lately, and anyway, I had things I had to do. "I'm going to hit the gym."

"What's the point now?" Tiffany asked. "I didn't make the cut, and you got snubbed."

"Just trying to stay fit, I guess," I shrugged. Tiffany went on her way, waving at me from the door, and I spent an hour venting my frustrations on dumbbells and climbing ropes.

"Claire?" I asked as I opened the door to my parents' house.

"Hey! How'd it go?" she asked from where she'd been waiting expectantly in the front room.

"Not so good," I said. Claire got up to comfort me and I waved her off. "They'll change their minds," I stated. Then I reached out and took from her arms the reason everyone believed I was nothing but a has-been.

"Hey, baby," I cooed. "Mama's home!"

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male

Three days before the Reaping, I was spending some quality time with my beautiful baby boy. Sean was a miracle, the best thing that possibly could have come out of two teenagers who knew everything about killing but so little about life that they didn't use a condom. Getting to Sean had been a hard road. Siobhan hadn't been interested in throwing her life away and was rightfully resentful that I would get to keep mine. It took weeks of pleading for her to relent and bring him into the world.

I never told her, but I was just the tiniest bit happy that Sean's birth knocked Siobhan's training trajectory to the wayside. I supported her dream and wanted her to be happy, but… I _loved_ her. I didn't want to see her in danger, even though I knew it was her choice. It _was_ her choice and I never stood in the way, but this solved the problem without me interfering.

I sat on my knees, hovering over Sean and dangling his legs back and forth as he lay on his back smiling up at me.

"Who's the little baby?" I asked. "The best baby in the whole world!" Sean arched his back and waved his arms at me, and I grinned.

The phone rang, and Siobhan went to pick it up. I heard her talking from the next room, but I didn't pay any attention. I was busy holding Sean over my head like an airplane.

"Cormac?" Siobhan asked, coming back into the room.

"Yeah?" I asked, not looking up.

"That was the Academy," Siobhan said. There was an uncharacteristic seriousness in her voice, making me look over my shoulder at her. Her face was as measured as her tone.

"What'd they want?" I asked. A tiny bit of worry niggled inside me. In the scant months after the placings were announced, Siobhan had gone into overdrive. She'd quickly surpassed Tiffany, who had bowed out after the announcement and hadn't worked out since. Valentine had gained twenty pounds since she learned she didn't have a shot of fighting. Desire, who had given her entire life to the Games for twelve years, went on a week-long drug bender and we weren't even sure she was alive. Allure got complacent and didn't see Siobhan until it was too late. But Siobhan was still safely in third place, behind two capable and strong women.

"Tamarind had a motorcycle accident," Siobhan said. She saw the concern on my face and continued. "She's alive. But her leg is broken. Compound fracture."

"Oh, no. I hope she'll be okay," I said. She wasn't going to the Arena, of course, but I hoped she got better soon.

"Cormac, they want me to go."

"What?" I asked. "What about Symphony?"

"I'm not far below her. They wanted us as a pair. For the relationship," Siobhan said.

"But we're broken up," I said.

"Not enough, I guess," she said.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"I'm going to accept," Siobhan said. She didn't wait for my input, and she didn't need to. I would have supported her, which she knew, but this was her choice.

"They did this because they want a pair that will work together. It gives One a better chance," Siobhan said.

"I don't care about One. I care about Sean," I said. I picked my son up and cradled him against my chest.

"They got that much right. We need to work together," Siobhan said. "One of us has to come back. I don't really care which one it is, as long as Sean has a parent."

"One of us needs to come home," I repeated. CorWe were together again, stronger than when we first joined. We were allies and partners to the very end. Siobhan wasn't just my District partner, or my ex-girlfriend who I still cared about deeply. She was one-third of my entire world.

* * *

 **Siobhan has long, frizzy black hair that goes down past her shoulders, dark brown skin, deep brown eyes, and a taller and muscular frame. She's about five feet and seven inches, and weighs around 120 pounds. (Side note: girl needs to eat more! I'm 5'7 and 140 and I think I'm in shape since I'M A MARINE!)**

 **Cormac: He has bright green eyes and brown, messy hair that he keeps short, as well as light tanned skin. He has a muscular frame and is about five feet and eleven inches tall, as well as 180 pounds.**


	4. Three Reaping

Barnaby Mercator- District Three male

 _Dear Journal,_

 _Mom was doing pretty well today. She got out of bed and even tried to make lunch for me. She made a big mess of the kitchen and I was late to school. But it was really nice having a lunch from her._

 _We got our math tests back today. I got a 92. It wasn't the very best in the class, but it was up there. I'm not even that good at math. I just study a lot. Most of the kids in my class are so dumb and goof off all day. If they applied themselves and didn't act so childish, they would probably get better grades than I do._

 _I sat at the same table as Nano today. He's so funny! And whenever he tells a joke, he gets this funny little smirk. I almost gave him the cupcake I baked, but I got nervous. I always get nervous. I was even more nervous when Mom was in the kitchen this morning! I thought she was going to see all the cupcake liners and things I have. I'd be mortified if she found out her son was a baker! I know we live in enlightened times and masculinity isn't bound by arbitrary lines, but… it's just such an immature pastime for the "man of the house". She thinks they're from Miss Haan and I don't want her to find out otherwise._

 _Dad sent less money than usual. I'm not mad because he doesn't really_ have _to send anything. He's not ordered to pay alimony or anything. It just means I'll have to tighten the budget again. I'm lucky people are usually oblivious to anything but themselves. If I was a storekeeper and noticed a twelve-year-old buying adult groceries every week, I'd be suspicious. But they never even notice._

 _Well, it's almost Reaping time again. A lot of the kids at school are really nervous. They're all making promises to each other or righting past wrongs and things like that. I'm trying to be more rational about it. There's no use letting my emotions control me. I'm going to use my brain and keep my head level. The odds against someone my age going into the Games are astronomical. Negligible, even. And_ that's _why I do better in English than math. I_ did _get an A+ on my paper on Lord of the Flies._

 _Oh, dear. I should get to my chores. It's hard work running a household by yourself, but it's nothing a mature adolescent like myself can't handle. And Mom does her best. It's not her fault she has mental difficulties. I just have to be supportive._

 _Good night!_

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

My sister Leslie sat silently, facing the wall on the floor in our room. The single light bulb cast hard, cold light on her, making her shadow long on the wall. She didn't react when I entered the room and walked up behind her. I looked over her shoulder as she worked. Her face was empty and her eyes stared stonily at the puzzle piece in her hand. She put her other hand down to hold the puzzle flat and easily slotted the piece into its place.

"Leslie. Time for bed," I said.

She ignored me and went on working. Her face didn't even move, and she made no sound of acknowledgement. Her hands moved almost robotically to the next piece.

"Leslie. Time for bed," I said again, and I slowly and firmly set a hand on her shoulder.

"Gah," she said with something like annoyance, and she pushed my hand off her shoulder, not roughly. She stood up, leaving the almost complete puzzle behind. It was the same puzzle she'd done every day for years, usually more than once per day. She had the pieces completely memorized by now, and would sit contentedly for hours putting them together and breaking it apart at the end with great ceremony.

"Bedtime. Bedtime. I'm going to bed," Leslie said as she undressed herself. She ran to our tiny bed and jumped in. I walked after her and smoothed out she blanket, tucking in the little wrinkle she always fussed over. She checked that the water glass was on the nightstand and half full.

"Turn off the light," she said, worming out one arm to point at the bulb. I tugged the string and she wormed her arm back under, smoothing the blanket as best she could.

"Good night. I love you," I said from the doorway.

"Good night. I love you," Leslie said.

It was the witching hour, when no one should be awake. Good people like Leslie had been in their beds for hours. The only ones still out were rowdy revelers like the people who frequented bars, and the disenfranchised phantoms that earned a living by sweeping them. It was always around three in the morning, two hours before my shift ended, that time blurred and a twilight dimension seemed to ooze between the cracks of day and night. Those were the times the thoughts came to me.

I thought of our parents, both gone now. I thought of Aunt Lara, who was so nice to let us stay with her and always so sad she couldn't support us more. I thought of Leslie, and the horrible, neverending fear for her spread in my mind again. If I got Reaped I would be terrified, but the thought of someone like Leslie in the Games was unimaginable. She couldn't be the first one, and the knowledge of the one before her, the unknown but certain Tribute that went into the Arena without being able to conceive of any of it, made me ashamed to be a human. I sometimes fantasized about Leslie getting Reaped just so I could save her forever by volunteering, but I couldn't say what I would do in real life, and that also made me ashamed.

 _Work sixteen hours and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt._ It wasn't all that bad, though. I only worked eight hour shifts, and thanks to Lara letting us stay with her, I wasn't in debt at all. I could even save up a little bit. By the time I found a man I wanted to marry, I'd have enough for a pretty white dress with a puffed skirt and sequins. And with both of us working, we could have a little house all ours. Leslie could stay with us, and I'd have children of my own. Things were already okay, and someday they would get better.

* * *

 **Barnaby is short, thin, and surly, with ashy reddish hair and large grayish blue eyes. He's white. He's skinny but fairly tall for his age and everything about him with the exception of his hair is washed out. He wears glasses.**

 **Lulu is very skinny and is about average height. She has rather pale skin with a few freckles on her face. She has straight brown hair and a face that isn't pretty or ugly. She looks pretty typical.**

 **Clarification of something perhaps ambiguous: Lulu was Reaped and did not volunteer for Leslie.**


	5. Four Reaping

Faust Xantina- District Four male

When you're rich, it seems like everything revolves around you. Everyone around you is for your amusement, from your entourage to your hired help. Even your children are more decorations than objects of affection. That was why I spent more time with my butler than my father.

"Both ends," Balthasar reminded me. I switched from favoring the sharpened weight at the end of the kusarigama and looped the chain at his legs. He sidestepped and got a bruise instead of getting tangled and falling.

"Very good. In a real fight where I hadn't literally just told you to do that, it would have worked," Balthasar said as we paused to discuss the fight.

It would have sounded silly to most people in my circle, but praise from Balthasar meant so much more than anything my parents said. They only ever commented when I was dressed up and "presentable", and they'd had everything handed to them. Balthasar earned everything he got, and he only cared about things I earned. The Academy made the wrong choice not to pick him all those years ago, and I hoped I could give him the vicarious victory he deserved.

"Faust! Are you in here?" my little sister Jewel called. She entered the room, our littler brother Dimas in tow.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, trying to look nonchalant as I hung up my weapon. Balthasar started sweeping up the mat floor.

"You're not really volunteering, are you?" Jewel asked.

"I was thinking about it," I said.

"You shouldn't," Jewel said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"You're only doing it because Balthasar said to," Dimas burst in.

"What? Am not!" I said.

"I'm sure Master Faust has the character to make his own decisions," Balthasar commented.

"I think Mother was looking for you," Jewel hinted.

"Of course," Balthasar said, and he politely left.

"You can't live your life for to make a washed-up old man happy," Jewel said when he was gone.

"He's not washed up. And I'm doing this because I want to," I said. _Because I want to make him happy. But also for myself._

"Because you're super good at living for yourself and not going along with what other people want," Dimas said.

"Oh, shut up," I said, but I was just joking. "Hey, guess what Balthasar taught me about shurikens."

"You're getting distracted again," Jewel said, and she was right. It wasn't my fault weapons were a lot more interesting than boring discussions.

* * *

Tuilelaith Gladstone- District Four female

"Ladies do not start fights, but they can finish them"

-Marie Bonfamille

No one needed to know my life motto came from a cat from a movie so old it was in 2D. Despite its humble source, it was true. And perhaps it had deeper meanings. From the outside, I seemed like a pampered, aristocratic debutante who would only deign to dirty my hands if the need arose. But like Marie, I displayed more than a little enjoyment when I ended fights.

The small cup I held by two fingers on its handle was delicate and exquisite. It was white china with a handpainted spray of pale blue flowers curling around its border underneath gold edging. It clacked lightly when I set it on an octagonal saucer. After a long day of training, there was little I enjoyed more than tea, especially steeped with trimmings selected from my own herb garden. Today's brew was sassafras. I delighted in the leaves' hints of vanilla, wintergreen, and anise. It was that last flavor that perfected it. Vanilla and wintergreen were subtle, but anise was overpowering enough to ensure no one would taste the poison.

There was no poison in this tea, or at least not a dangerous amount. But that was disingenuous. There wasn't a dangerous amount of poison _to me._ My training didn't end when I arrived home from the Academy. Conditioning my body for the Arena involved both trials… and inoculations. _Mithridatism,_ it was called, in the books I preferred while most of my friends were more inclined to aquatic sport. It got its name from its de facto founder, Mithridates, who, according to legend, was so successful that when he _wanted_ to die of poisoning, he couldn't. I'd be afraid of the irony if there was any chance I would ever want to kill myself.

It wasn't a perfect process. Some poisons, like heavy metals, killed by accumulation, so mithridatism would just be inviting death. Others, like ricin, were so potent that a small enough amount couldn't accurately be found. That was why I supplemented by training with knives and quite literally picked my poisons.

It wasn't often someone like me was selected to volunteer. Most Fours were tanned, toned athletes with life experience and little book learning. I was a pale, privileged young woman who favored gathered skirts and lace sleeves. It was widely thought that my parents arranged my selection with a hefty donation to the Academy, and I let the opinion stand. To be underestimated is always the ideal. No one would expect a spoiled rich girl to get even beyond the Bloodbath. I wasn't going to claim victims in epic fights or daring ambushes. My lethality would come in a homemade cup of tea. And I would lay on my victims' graves the flower I used to kill them.

* * *

 **It's been slower lately since I've been doing lots of shoots, but I have a long weekend now! In a week I'm going to Latvia to take photos and video, so I probably won't be able to write until I get back in early March.**

 **Tuilelaith: tall for her age, with dark brown hair usually worn in a bun. She has pale skin, and brown eyes.**

 **Faust: Typical Four except less tan and lighter hair**


	6. Six Reaping

Demi Johal- District Six female

It always gave me a darkly ironic thrill when my friends and I vandalized a automotive building. We weren't exactly _rich_ juvenile delinquents, so we usually got our supplies from the dumpsters behind buildings. This time we chose an upscale car factory, and it tickled me that we were defacing the company's building with their own trash.

Soft hisses pierced the air as Khara and Screech spray-painted graffiti and profanities on the outside wall of the building with the almost-but-not-quite empty cans we fished out of the dumpsters. Each one had only a few sprays left, meaning the designs were haphazard and multicolored. The sharp and burning odor of chemicals and aerosols gave the scene a criminal, seedy aura. I wondered if we were frying our brains and brushed it off with the knowledge that there wasn't much there to fry. Around me, my other gangmates kicked around garbage and generally made nuisances of themselves.

Instead of a paint can, I held a bent tire iron in my hand. The angle of the break made it useless for factory work, but it was still fine for my work. I turned my face to the side as I smashed the tire iron into a window. The sharp crack of glass thrilled me as shards flew past my cheeks. The others looked over at the noise, surprised at its suddenness and surely thinking it was Peacekeepers.

That was the exact reason I did it. I didn't have anything against the owners of the building. I didn't even know which company it was. I didn't feel guilty at all, to be sure. They were rich slave drivers that paid poverty wages to workers making cars that only Capitolites would ever drive. But I also wasn't some self-styled terrorist fighting capitalism. I just liked smashing things. I liked breaking things and hearing the noise and knowing that Peacekeepers _could_ come, that I would be in more trouble than I could imagine. I liked to fantasize that half a dozen Peacekeepers would find me doing some petty vandalism. They'd start a fight and quicker than they could even think, I'd kick all their asses and vanish.

It wouldn't really be like that, of course. I'd get hauled off to jail and spend a very boring few days in a boring cell before I got horsewhipped or worse. I didn't actually want it to happen. I just loved the edging peril of inviting it, flirting with disaster like a little girl who lets her balloon go and grabs it at the very last second, knowing how close it was to floating away forever.

The screech of quickly-turning wheels on asphalt startled me, and I jerked the tire iron close to my chest. Everyone scattered, only Khara pausing to wait for me. We ran next to each other as we fled the scene. I looked over my shoulder to see if I could catch a glimpse of the Peacekeepers. Disappointingly but luckily, I didn't see a single one.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

Lancia was the last Victor we've had in decades. She was pretty cool. High expectations, but she held herself to the same standard.

Last year it was Enobaria. She sat next to her mother, and they couldn't possibly have been more different. A statuesque black woman loomed over a tiny white lady half her size. The one thing that brought them together was their augmentation. Enobaria tore into her food with ghastly shark's teeth, and Pray's use of the knife was superfluous with her gleaming claws.

Loki was very timid. He glanced at me nervously whenever I got up, and he seemed to want to melt into the wall silently. He was very polite and thankful for the food we prepared. I didn't tell him it wasn't me and my mother who did the cooking. We only hosted the venue.

Hlenn's eyes were as big as the plates for the entire party. She was positively enamored by the decorations and luxuries of a Capitol banquet, even though we were her sixth. The only hiccup came when we wheeled out the roast swan and she almost cried.

I had a million more stories. For most people, Victors were exotic, faraway celebrities. For me, they were houseguests. My mother's family home had survived the Dark Days, and as one of Six's most historic and lovely buildings, we were expected to host each year's Victory Tour feast. I'd met everyone from Careers to Gamemakers, and after so much exposure, they just seemed like normal people.

The party I was currently attending was a much more modest affair, but it was still one of my favorites. A sweet 16 didn't mean much for a Districter, but eighteen was something else entirely. The age-old transition from childhood to adulthood was made even more important by the all-encompassing truth of _the final Reaping._ One last year, and then children were safe forever. _That_ was something to celebrate.

Everyone sang as my mother brought out the cake. It was my mother's work this time, a homemade carrot cake with cream cheese icing. It sat isolated in the center of the giant hardwood table we used for banquets. Without the Capitol funds and supplies, we were a much more normal family. The party had the cake, and some pink lemonade, and not too much else. Just a nice family gathering, that's all.

My stepfather helped my mother ease the cake onto the table and settled her into her chair. She was breathing hard, and I waited as she caught her breath and stabilized herself.

"Happy birthday," my mother said as my stepfather cut the cake, and her eyes glistened. "I'm so proud of you. I know you'll do great."

As the new man of the house (along with my stepfather, but you know what I mean), it was almost time for me to take over my mother's duties as host. I already did almost everything, what with Mom's condition. Despite all the seemingly earnest concern from our friends in the Capitol, there had be no offers of treatment for her MS. It was a slow, creeping death, but I could see it. I saw it in how she struggled so hard to carry the cake with both hands and no cane, or how she so often couldn't read the invitations she was trying to hand-write, or the way words came out soft sometimes, like her tongue forgot the movements. She hadn't known if she would make it to this birthday, and it was more special than any Victory feast.

"Why do I have to wait so long?" I asked, cutting into my slice with a fork. The smell of nutmeg reached me, and I smiled, thinking of my mom's secret recipe.

"Oh, just hard to know the future," my mother said, pushing pieces of her own slice around the plate.

The nutmeg seemed more potent against the contrasting weight inside me. _You mean no use taking chances. No use taking the chance that I might die before you do._

* * *

 **Demi dark indian skin and straight raven black hair that falls past her shoulders. thin lips and chocolate brown eyes, shaped like almonds. 5'6 and 120 lbs. Profile says looks like Neelam Gill, but TBH I'm thinking of Kali from Stranger Things 2, what with the punkish vandalism**

 **Jules:** **Samoan and African American descent, with curly black hair and dark eyes. He is of average height and weight for his age.**


	7. Five Reaping

**Street kids are potty mouths.**

* * *

Edison Westbrook- 17 (15 at time of chapter)

It had been two weeks since my father died. Mom and Gertrude had barely left the house. They spent all day wandering like ghosts, reminiscing about him and doing little household chores to pretend things were normal. Things _weren't_ normal. I wasn't talking about my father being dead. I missed him and all, but I hardly ever saw him between his long hours and my school. And even if I did, it was a fact of life. He was gone, and we had to go on. But we couldn't go on if they just sat at home all day. The kitchen was almost empty. The rent was coming up fast. The electricity and water were going to go out soon if someone didn't do something.

They didn't even notice when I left. Sometimes I wondered how long it would take to think I was missing, or if they would even care. It was a horrible thing to think about my own family, and I felt guilty about it. I loved Mom and Gertrude so much it hurt, and it was weird to think something bad about them. I knew it wasn't their fault they were taking it harder than I was. It was just because they were more caring and loving than me.

 _This is the least I can do,_ I thought as I made my way down the winding alleys and paths to the richer part of the District, where Peacekeepers and politicians lived. I wasn't after Peacekeepers- I wasn't _that_ dumb- but politicians were easy money.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, bouncing sideways off a well-dressed man. He was rushing down the street, which was precisely why I'd chosen him. Some of the elite didn't take kindly to touching an urchin like me, and others knew what was up and immediately demanded the wallet back or screamed for a Peacekeeper. But this paper-pusher, or whatever he was, had some very important papers to push and was gone before I even finished apologizing. I slipped the pocketwatch into my own pocket and kept walking.

"Got something for you," I told Dodge. That wasn't the pawnbroker's real name, as anyone with an elementary knowledge of books would know. Anyone with an elementary level of brains would also know why a pawnbroker might use a fake name.

Dodge turned the watch over in his hand, easily verifying its worth. "I'll take it," he said.

"I'll be coming around more often now," I said, before he could even make an offer. "In fact, I want to make a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Dodge asked, already suspicious.

"I want a partnership," I said. "I'll be your source for stolen goods. Your _only_ source."

"And why would I do that?" Dodge almost laughed.

"I'm your best source. You don't need anyone else. And if you say no, I'll tell the Peacekeepers where you get most of your stock," I said.

"You'll tell the Peacekeepers I'm getting stolen goods… from you?" Dodge asked. "Maybe we'll share a cell, kid."

"I'm a teenage pickpocket. Do I seem like I have good impulse control or foresight?" I asked, doubling down and going all in. "I can get you whatever you need. You make the requests, I get the goods. It's either we both make a good deal, or we both go to jail."

We didn't go to jail.

* * *

Rachel "Switch" Larson- District Five female

Sometimes people make me sick. I was helping a stranded motorist fix a loose hose when I heard the little boy screaming. The motorist jumped in the car and locked the door, and I made a face telling him what I thought of a grown-ass man too scared to help a little kid.

"Don't go anywhere," I called sarcastically as I ran to help the kid.

I knew what that sort of scream meant. Street life wasn't bad once you got your street legs, but it had its rough spots. It was honestly pretty easy to make a surprisingly decent living just by begging. Not that _I_ did, since I could take out mechanical jobs and earn my keep, but it was doable. Little kids were especially successful at cadging sweets and coins off well-to-do do-gooders. The flipside was that made them a target for bigger, less cute kids who weren't as good at begging but were a lot better at fighting. Some people are real pieces of work.

"All right, who's the dickbag who's shaking down a kid?" I asked as I arrived on the scene. It was a narrow alleyway, naturally. The sort of place a kid would make a hidey-hole out of garbage cans and cardboard, or the place a bigger kid would corner someone.

A tough-looking boy about my age was holding onto another boy maybe ten years old by the collar. I'd gotten there before the real violence happened, but not by much. The little kid tore at the bully's grip, vainly trying to free himself.

The bully told me to do something anatomically impossible.

"Well it sure isn't going to get done with what you're packing," I said. "You gonna let him go or what?"

"Come get him," the bully said. He yanked the kid up by his throat, dangling him off the ground.

"Hey!" I yelled, rushing toward the boy. Necks weren't made to do that, so I had to act fast. As I went, I glanced to each side, checking for traps or ambushes. I didn't see anything, at least not until I was almost on top of the two. Then I saw it- the glint of metal, high in the air.

"You little shit!"

 **SWITCH**

I knocked the little boy's hand aside sharply, and the knife clattered to the pavement. I shoved him in the chest, knocking him back against the bully, who was supporting him behind the neck with his other hand. As they staggered back, I hooked my leg against the larger boy's. They both fell on their backs, the smaller boy knocking the wind from the larger one. The little boy rolled off the bully's chest and crawled for the knife. I brought my foot down hard on his arm, right on his extended elbow. The joint snapped and the boy curled on his side, wailing. The larger boy rolled onto his stomach and started to get up, leaning on one stiffened arm for support. Without thinking, I did the same to him. Then they were both on the ground, sobbing and screaming.

 **SWITCH**

Both of the boys were on the ground, holding their arms and crying. I looked around in confusion, trying to see who had done it and where they had gone. There was no one with us except the rapidly approaching footsteps of people who heard the commotion. Among the rubberneckers, I recognized Lecter, another homeless kid.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"These boneheads tried to jump me and then someone broke their arms… I guess?" I said, still trying to make sense of it.

"She did it!" the little boy screamed, tears streaking his face as he pointed at me with his good arm.

"What?" I asked.

"The hell is wrong with you?" the larger boy said.

"You did all that?" Lecter asked, eyebrows raised in admiration.

"I don't… think so," I said. "I don't even remember what happened. It's like I switched off."

"You switched into a _badass,"_ Lecter said. "Nice going… Switch."

* * *

 **Alternative formatting in Rachel's chapter to accommodate her dual personality.**

 **Edison: Short dirty blonde hair, dark brown eyes. He is average height for his age at about 5'6 and is average weight.**

 **Rachel: 5'6,sinewy type body type from living on the streets and working on machines,pixy cut hair, tan**


	8. Seven female

**Sorry I lied. Actually it's the Seven female. I don't have the male form yet (Or I might and just didn't see it...) I just titled it this to mess with my little sister. I wanted to make sure to get this out before I leave for Latvia on Friday. I probably won't be able to write tomorrow and quite likely in Latvia, so stay cool until early March. The return date isn't ironclad, since military.**

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

 _There has to be a better way,_ I thought as I filed along in a line with the other workers, each of us carrying a heavy log across our shoulders. _I know the caterpillar can't get this far into the woods, since the branches are so thick, but this is so heavy and cumbersome. There has to be a better way._

The next day, I came in to work early. Since work already started before the sun rose, it was almost closer to me just working late. In either case, I dragged my sleep-deprived butt out into the woods in the middle of the night and plopped myself down with a headlamp, some paper and pencils, and my noggin.

 _I'm going to do it. I'm going to fix this._ They'd be so happy when they say my marvelous invention. It would make work so much easier for all of us. They'd put their logs down on my invention, lean over, and take a long break while my invention did all the work. Instead of carrying logs, they'd carry _me_ on their shoulders. " _Laurel!"_ they'd cheer. " _We were totally wrong! You weren't dumb! You were the smartest and sweetest girl in Seven!"_

It didn't take long for inspiration to strike. All at once, I thought of the best idea. It was a simple platform I could make by nailing together a few leftover planks from the pile of wood too knotty or ugly for Capitol use. Then I would lay down logs and use them as wheels, sliding the platform over them to the caterpillar. It would be much easier to slide the slab with the logs over the mostly smooth, round logs. _Genius!_

I ran to the supply lean-to and got to work. The tools were always left out at the end of the night, since if you stole one, they beat you to death with it. I grabbed a hammer and some bent nails and got to work. The peaceful forest abounded with the sound of thwacking and pounding.

As the sun grew nearer to starting to rise, the first few workers started meandering closer, evident by the sounds of cursing, complaining, and tripping. I tried to contain myself and keep a cool front, but when they came within sight, I couldn't resist.

"Hey everyone, come see what I invented!" I yelled, jumping up proudly.

"Is that Laurel?" Mr. Verde said.

"Oh saints help us," Ms. Salsify said.

"No, it's good this time!" I insisted. "I made something so we don't have to carry those heavy logs anymore!"

"What is it?" Harriet, one of my friends, asked as she came to the front of the group. More people clustered in behind her as the rest of the workers arrived.

"I invented this wooden platform," I started.

"You invented a slab of wood?" Mr. Verde said.

"I mean… not just any slab of wood," I said. "It slides along a row of round logs, making it easier to move them." I pointed out each feature as I told how it worked.

"How do we get a row of logs?" Mr. Verde asked.

"We carry them," I said.

"We carry the logs all the way to the caterpillar so we don't have to carry logs to the caterpillar?" Mr. Verde said.

As he stopped talking, I took in a breath and held up a finger to continue showing my handiwork. Then I heard what he said. Slowly, I curled my finger back up.

 _Ohhhhhh..._

* * *

 **Laurel is a white female. She's of a normal height, and she has long brown hair that she intends to pixie cut someday. She's more leg than torso, and she has average sized b*** and an average butt. Her eyes are big and blue.**


	9. Seven Male

**I got the Seven male, so I went ahead and evened it out.**

 **Sort of trigger warning: This is creepy as heck. I legit spooked myself out writing it and really wish my roommate didn't leave her closet open. The form mentioned things I happen to know a lot about and I do NOT hide my feelings on the subject.**

* * *

Mico Samson- District Seven male

(Thirteen at time of scene)

 _Let me have her back. Just for a few minutes. Let me hear her telling me she loves me. Let me feel her arms hugging me tight, and the way her hand cradled the back of my head._

It didn't matter that I didn't have the fancy boxed-up board that the toy store sold. It was the intent, not the materials. A sheet of paper and a wadded-up piece I'd torn off would have the same effect, or lack of. What mattered was the sincere desire to contact, and the desire of the other side to be contacted.

"Of my own heart and will, I open this space to visitors spiritually and otherwordly," I started, reciting the greeting written on the back of the box in the store. "Spirits, enter this space and channel my energy as your vessel."

My hand wavered as I laid it gently on the paper. I expected it to feel warm, even to burn me. Some subtle energy seemed to emanate from the planchette, filling the dark room around me with simmering potential. My heartbeat pulsed in the pad of my finger on the paper.

Unsure of what to do next, I lifted my hand. The room seemed darker, though nothing had changed. I was suddenly aware of how far away my father was, working in the lumberyards while I claimed to be sick. The lack of light in the room gathered around me.

"Is there a spirit here?" I asked. I stared at the planchette, emotion welling behind my eyes as I prayed to I didn't know what. I felt something. It was inexplicable- something I sensed but didn't know what sense I used to do it. There was a manifestation in the back of my mind, an insistent, whispering truth of otherness.

My chest went cold when the planchette moved. It shifted, slightly but sharply jumping sideways. My heart beat inward, constricting on itself, as my own eyes saw the planchette slide itself on the paper toward one of the words I'd prewritten.

 ** _YES_**

My sternum heaved as I breathed. The room was heavy around me. The warm, stifling pressure of the room had grown so quickly but subtly I hadn't noticed it. Everything seemed to dwindle around the paper, like if I looked into the corners of my eyes, it would be pitch black.

"Is Wisteria Samson there?" I asked, my voice shaking. _Please. Please._

The planchette slid off the word, crawling toward the letters arranged across the page. As it moved, I found that I knew what it was going to say next, each letter on the page like an echo of what I heard in my mind.

 _ **S-H-E-I-S-H-E-R-E**_

I laughed suddenly, shuddering in the middle as it turned into a sob. "Please! This is her son Mico. Ask her to come, please," I begged. Everything I knew about the universe had shifted in a single moment, and it didn't matter one bit.

The message was long, eking out one crawling letter at a time. A deep humming built up inside my ears, almost inaudible at first, but building in timbre until it vibrated through me. A presence seemed to ooze from the paper, hanging in the room around me. It soaked into the walls and floors, settling in like a coat of paint.

 _ **C-A-N-N-O-T-B-E-U-N-D-O-N-E**_

"I know. I know she can't come back. But can we still talk?" I asked.

 _ **A-L-W-A-Y-S**_

"Can she stay with me?" I asked. My heart throbbed in time with the energy of the room. I felt foreign emotions inside my head, feelings spilling over from the not-me in the space around me. A pocket of space spread behind my breastbone. I had the impression of laughter.

 ** _N-E-V-E-R-L-E-A-V-E-Y-O-U_**

* * *

 **Don't MESS with OUIJA BOARDS! For more info, PM LadyCordeliaStuart, who has seen things most people wouldn't believe. But not by playing with Ouija boards!**

 **Mico has slightly wavy black hair that almost touches his shoulders. His eyes are a deep brown, and have a threatening look to them. He stands at about 5'9".**

 **BRB going to Latvia tomorrow. Back around March 14th.**


	10. Eleven Reaping

**I'm back in the states!**

 **I just realized I DID have both Tens. Oops they'll come next. I still need a Nine tribute from Paperairline, though.**

* * *

Daffodil Starshine- District Eleven female

Dahlia's fingers clutched my hand as we walked toward the Reaping center. It was her first year eligible to be Reaped, and I could already see the tears in her eyes. Her breath shook as we walked, and she alternated between staring numbly ahead and peeking at me for reassurance I couldn't give.

"Hey, Daffodil! Ready to volunteer yet?" Potter asked when he walked by on the street. He was old enough to be safe, so he could afford to be cheerful.

I smiled weakly. "I don't think so," I said. I knew Potter from our school archery team. Sure, I was one of the better shots, but it wasn't the same. Shooting a target wasn't like shooting a person.

"Maybe next year," he said, and he winked before he turned.

Snapdragon had to be on her last years. She was aging nicely, but she was still aging, and that wasn't allowed in the Capitol. This would probably be the last time I saw her. I would have said I wouldn't miss her, but this wasn't her fault.

"Ladies first!" she said, reaching into the bowl. I picked Dahlia out of the crowd and wished I could reach out with my thoughts and hold her tight.

"Violet Braveheart!" Snapdragon called.

I almost got vertigo from the simultaneous wash of relief and punch in the gut. Violet was my best friend. She was kind and sweet and she didn't have a chance.

Violet made horrible noises as they almost carried her to the stage. Her face was drawn and white, and her eyes made me wish I couldn't see her. She made a dry, drawn-out wail, sounding far older than a child.

I was already thinking before Sanpdragon opened her mouth. Violet would surely die, but there were people out here who just might not. I did archery, even though it was just a target. I ran every day before school. Even my silly basket-weaving hobby might come in handy. _I could do this._ I could win. It wasn't a sure thing, but what _was_ sure was that I could save my friend.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Snapdragon asked.

"I volunteer as Tribute," I said. The first half came out wobbly, and the second half was so quiet she hardly heard it.

I walked silently to the stage, hardly believing what I'd just done. Violet ran to me and clung on, sobbing wildly until the Peacekeepers prised her away. In the crowd, Dahlia stared at me wide-eyed, her mouth slightly open as she tried to process seeing me on the stage.

It was almost time to go when I got my last visitor in the Justice Hall. I'd already had my emotional farewells with my family. Just as the Peacekeeper was about to close the door, I heard a scuffle.

"Wait! Just one more thing! It'll only take a second!"

 _Fuji?_

A little girl slipped through the door. "Hereyougogoodluck!" she said, handing me a card. She darted out the door before the Peacekeeper could get mad.

I looked at the folded sheet of thick paper in my hand. It was covered in messages in different handwriting.

 _Get a bullseye, Daffodil!- Clementine_

 _Thanks for getting Gnocchi out of the tree!- Chervil and Cherry_

 _We know you can do it!- Salsify_

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I turned the paper over and over in my hands, reading the messages from people all over the District, some of whom I barely knew. I hadn't done anything anyone else wouldn't have done, but this was something else. An entire District of people thought I could actually win. They'd done so much for me. I couldn't let them down.

* * *

Cedar Hedgeson- District Eleven male

Earning money is backbreaking in Eleven. That was why I preferred to earn _other_ people's money.

"Come on, let me in," I pleaded with the "bouncer" at one of Eleven's two decrepit bars. They weren't bars so much as _dives._ Really they were shoddily-built buildings that someone dragged moonshine and a few tables into.

"Eighteen and over," the man said, his arms folded silently over his chest.

"Yeah, eighteen! That's me!" I said.

"You had three birthdays since yesterday?" the bouncer said.

"The fields, man. They age you fast," I said. The bouncer's face didn't move.

"Where am I going to get into more trouble? Playing cards, or wandering around at night looking for mischief?" I asked. I could see the faintest give in the bouncer's body language, so I pressed on. "I won't drink. Promise. I don't even _like_ alcohol!"

"If I see you so much as look at a bottle, I'm throwing you out. And walking you home and telling your mother exactly what you were doing," the bouncer said, stepping aside. I was in the building like a greased cat.

Math wasn't my thing, so it was funny my game was poker. Sure, I dabbled in craps and keno, but poker was the classic. I loved the possibilities, the anticipation when the dealer flipped each of those cards in the middle of the table. I pulled back a chair and plopped myself down.

"Oh, no. Deal me out," one of the players said, tossing his cards into the middle.

"Can't stand the heat?" I asked.

"Can't stand the _cheat,"_ he said.

"The very idea," I said airily.

"Buy-in's ten coins," the dealer said. He got paid the same whoever played.

I stacked the coins and slid them into the pile. They slid across the rough wood, sticking in puddles of sugary drinks and booze. The player next to me rolled a cigarette and licked it. A moment later, aromatic smoke darkened the already dim room. Glass clinked as a bartender cleared a table.

Five cards came to a rest in front of me, thrown frisbee-style by the dealer. I picked them up and arranged them, keeping my face straight.

As I did, the dealer flipped over the shared cards in the middle of the table, by the pot. A three of clubs. A nine of hearts. A five of hearts. An ace of diamonds. An ace of spades.

 _What are the odds of that?_ I asked myself. Two aces in the center. A little awkward, really, since I already had three aces in my hand.

* * *

 **Daffodil: medium-height, pale-skinned, and slender. She has long and flowing deep blonde hair with natural auburn highlights. Her hair stretches down to her waist, but she usually wears it in a ponytail. She has striking and expressive icy blue eyes.**

 **Cedar: Dark skin, Black brownish short hair, 5'8, muscular from hard labor, hazel eyes, scars on left arm, sideburns**


	11. Eight Reaping

Brocade Ristallo- District Eight male

I unfocused my eyes, seeming to look right through the man sitting across the table from me. He was from the rich part of Eight, obviously. Just his presence here in one of our only taverns proved that, as well as his nice clothes and smooth-skinned hands. That, and the fact that he'd paid to have his fortune told.

It took a long time to establish a following. I didn't look the part of a soothsayer. I wasn't a haggard old woman or a man with one white, clouded eye. The only break I got was my olive skin, which gave old-fashioned people the idea that I was from "elsewhere", some foreign place where people were definitely much different than they were here. My other calling card was the port wine birthmark behind my ear, which I told people was my "caul" and the mark of a fortune-teller. That one wasn't really a break, since I smeared it on there with fabric dye every day. No one ever looked enough times to tell it moved.

My mind wandered as I pretended to scrutinize the cards in front of me. _Wonder how much he'll pay?_ I thought as I ponderously rubbed my chin. _Hot out today. Angora's probably having a bad time._

Telling fortunes took no effort anymore. Everyone wanted to hear the same things. There were maybe half a dozen different types of people who sought me out, and I could peg them all in seconds. I wasn't some genius at reading people. I just had experience.

"The cards say you're a very mysterious person," I said to the man, who gasped lightly at how perceptive I was. _Everyone_ thinks they're mysterious. "You're having problems in a relationship." People come to fortune tellers because they have problems. This man obviously didn't have problems with money, so that left love. The besotted excitement in his eyes at my statement gave me my next one.

"Romantic love," I said. "Your boyfriend? Husband?"

That one was a bit of a guess. He just sort of seemed the type.

"How did you know?" he almost whispered.

"It's all in the cards," I said, sweeping a hand over the cheap tarot-looking cards I'd gotten from a flea market.

"Are we gonna be okay?" the man asked.

I huffed slightly to myself as I squinted at the cards. I reassembled the deck and shuffled it, using a simple trick to force two cards to the top. I flipped them over.

"A pair of jacks. And a pair they'll stay," I said, overlapping the two cards.

The man gave an excited little cry, pulling his hands to his chests in glee. "Oh, thank you!" he said. "Thank you so much! Here, it's the least I can do." He reached into his pocket and tossed a fat handful of coins on the table before running out, no doubt to plan a romantic date.

For a moment, I just savored the sight of the shining coins. They were the reason for all of this. _Money, money, money._ How I loved it. I chased it like a lover and drank in it like a man in the desert. Money was the choice to do what I wanted and freedom from the poverty and starvation that marked my early life. There was very little I wouldn't do for money. I'd even risk my life for it, as evidenced by the number of tesserae I'd taken out and sold. Anything to leave the empty stomach and cold nights and scornful laughter of people who were just a little bit less poor than we were. Never would I ever be poor again. Not if I had to lie to every sucker in Eight.

* * *

Dagny Sigurdson- District Eight female

You might say I was born in the factory. You might say that because I literally was born in the factory. Mom had a really high pain tolerance. She thought I was a cramp.

Mom didn't work there anymore, ever since the concentrated bleach machine ruptured straight into her eyes, but the factory was still there. It was a part of my life as much as a part of my birth. I worked there every day, and it was that work that provided a life for me and my family. But even though it was a part, it wasn't everything. The best parts of my life where the moments spent picking flowers with my grandfather.

"I found a purple weasel's tail," I said, holding up the fluffy specimen. The two of us didn't know the names for most of the flowers, since the Eight library was a pitiful collection of sewing patterns and tattered romance novels donated by "charitable" Capitolites. So we made up our own names. Purple weasel tails sure _looked_ like they should be named that.

"Hey, Sprout, you'll never guess what I heard," Grandpa said, with that twinkle in his eye and that curve in his moustache he got when he was smiling about something really good.

"What is it? What is it?" I asked. Besides just the flowers themselves, the other good thing about picking wildflowers growing in overgrown empty lots was that there usually weren't people around, and we could talk about whatever we wanted.

"Oh, I might shouldn't. It might be pretty treasonous," Grandpa said.

"Tell meeeeee," I pleaded, hands clasped.

"I heard… that the reason President Snow always has a rose… is that he… is part rose," Grandpa said. That was the kind of rebellious conspiracy theory we liked to whisper about. We left the freedom fighting to far braver souls, but crackpot rumors were our thing.

"How can you be part rose?" I asked, seeing a few holes in the "President Snow is literally a plant" theory.

"It's all those muttations," Grandpa said. "They started under Galba, right? Well, she saw the potential in them and immediately moved to… _human_ creations. President Snow is so weird and off-putting because we can see the plant part of him. We just don't notice exactly what it is."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Have you ever seen him eat?" Grandpa asked.

"Well… I guess not," I said, trying to think back to the recordings of Victory tours I'd seen. But I'd hardly paid attention. I didn't even remember if he ate or not.

"Because he photosynthesizes," Grandpa said darkly. "President Snow is half rose and half… President Galba's son!"

Clearly he expected this to have a huge effect on me, but I was unimpressed. So what if he was Galba's kid?

"Oh, I guess you weren't even born when she died, were you?" Grandpa asked. "Sometimes I forget I'm old."

"This is some pretty big news. We better keep this one _extra_ secret," I said, nodding solemnly.

"Wild Peacekeepers couldn't drag it out of me," Grandpa said.

 _Except you just told me._

* * *

 **Dagny:** **A short girl with pale, freckled skin. Large, ice blue eyes with short cut. dirty blonde hair. She has a wide smile with a slight overbite. Rather lanky, her body hasn't filled out yet.**

 **Brocade** : **Brocade looks very messy. He has unkempt ruffled dirty black hair which is quite curly and goes down to his neck. He has brown eyes which seem to flutter about a lot. He has olive skin. He's quite small and has small facial features. He skin is quite smooth, though quite spotty. He's thin and not muscly either. His teeth are quite crooked and don't look the nicest.**


	12. Nine Reaping

Quinoa Farmer- District Nine female

"I can throw a rock farther than you can!"

Silt and Spelt gave each other that look twins get when they're thinking the same thing and want to acknowledge it even though each knows the other so well they don't have to look. _There she goes again,_ they were thinking. _Our sister, the most competitive girl in the world._

"Remember what happened when you said you ran faster than anyone else?" Silt asked.

"Yeah, but that wasn't fair! You're way taller than me! You don't have to run as far because your legs are longer!" I said.

Spelt shrugged as he picked up a rock.

"Okay, let's see what you've got," he said, and threw it. It sailed out in a well-aimed arc, landing far out in the dirt and raising a soft cloud.

I let Silt throw first, scanning the ground as I looked for a perfect rock. My brothers were a lot bigger than I was, and if I wanted to keep up with them, I had to fight stronger _and_ smarter. And I did want to keep up with them. I wanted to surpass them, to leave them in the dust, knowing that they blew their advantage and let me beat them.

Silt barely seemed to be putting effort in when he threw. When Spelt threw a moment later, he casually shied the rock like he was just skipping it across a pond on a lazy day. I found a heavy-looking, aerodynamic rock, and when I threw, I almost wrenched my shoulder from my socket. The rock sailed through the air, landing perhaps just an inch past my brothers' rocks.

"See that?" I crowed. "Mine went the farthest!"

"Yessiree, you sure are the best at throwing rocks," Silt said.

"We are in the presence of greatness," Spelt said.

I was aware of their sarcasm, but I chose to ignore it. Despite my brothers' lack of interest, I knew they weren't letting me win. I could always tell when they did that, and I would let them have it before demanding a _real_ rematch. This was just something they couldn't understand. They were big, strapping farm boys. Physical things came easy to them. I was small, and slightly built, and… a girl. I had to work twice as hard to be as strong as they were naturally. Beating me was no big deal to them. Being as strong as them was everything to me.

"Heyyyy!"

Far off in the distance, Milo was calling us from the farmhouse. My brothers and I ran in, me turning red and panting with exertion so that at the end, I was a few feet ahead. I was about to point that out when I saw Milo's face. My big brother's cheeks were pasty, and his eyes were puffy.

"You okay?" Silt asked.

"I have a cold," Milo said, and he coughed into his hand. All three of us saw right through him. He didn't have a cold, not when the sun was out and when he'd just spent all day working in the fields like everyone else. He was thinking about the Reaping.

"I guess the Hunger Games is coming up soon," I said with my bravest and most cavalier smile. "If they pick me, I'll be sure to pick the biggest house in the Victor's Village, so you can all come live with me."

"You shouldn't talk about things like that," Milo said.

"The Hunger Games aren't even anything," I said, and it was all for their benefit. No matter what I told myself, I knew how things were. The Hunger Games weren't a rock-throwing competition with my brothers. If I went into the Arena, all my work and zeal to win wouldn't make a lick of difference, because all those other kids would be trying just as hard to win as I would. Milo might have been showing it more, but I was just as scared as he was. There were some things you couldn't will yourself to the top of. There were games I couldn't win, and I never wanted to play them.

* * *

Randy Mill- District Nine male

"There's my baby!"

It sounded so weird coming from my mother. It was what she'd called me since I was, well, a baby, but lately, it sounded so weird.

It was probably because that was what Narcissa called me. Narcissa was from Two, like most Peacekeepers. She missed home, and most of all, she missed how pretty people were back there. She said I was pretty just like people in Two, and she just loved pretty things. She loved how pretty I was so much that she _paid_ me just to be pretty! She liked to buy my fancy clothes and shiny things so she could hang them on me like a decorated tree. I didn't know much about Two, but I sure liked shiny things, especially if I could sell them and buy things I actually liked, like presents for my mom. Sure, I was only with her because I was rich, but she was only with me because I was pretty. That seemed fair to me.

Anyway, there was something weird about hearing your actual momma call you the same thing your sugar momma called you. But I never told her, because how weird would that be? She knew about my job, but she didn't have to know that Narcissa also called me baby. It was different when Mom did it.

"Let's play Brain Freeze!"

Mom loved Brain Freeze. It was the only board game we had, so that was lucky. She probably just liked it because she always won. She always seemed to know the answers to the trivia cards, and I always seemed to get the hard ones.

When it was her turn, she picked up a card and read it.

"Time trial! All players write down as many factors of 160 as possible. Time limit is 30 seconds."

 _Why would I want to do school when I'm playing a game?_ I grumbled as I scribbled numbers on a sheet of paper. _Let's see. 2, since it's even. 5, since it ends in 0. Uhhh… 4? I don't know…_

Mom had three times as many numbers as I did at the end. I didn't even know 160 _had_ that many factors!

It was my turn next. I picked out a card. _Easy one easy one easy one…_ I hoped.

It was about synonyms, and Mom took that one, too. _Dang, she always gets the ones I don't know about._ Then she took the next one, about geography, and the next, about anagrams.

 _Wait a minute…._

Whatever subject it was, Mom sure seemed to know it a lot better than I did. More like, whatever subject it was, I didn't know much about it. Maybe it wasn't that I was unlucky after all. Maybe… I was just dumb as a post.

Honestly, that made a lot of sense. How I never kept a job other than getting paid to look pretty. How Narcissa was always patting my head and saying "bless your heart". How I took third grade three times and still didn't get B's most of the time. I had to face the music. I was just plain stupid.

It should have hurt, but it didn't really seem that bad. Some people are ugly. Some people are mean. We all have empty spots. Mine was that I was dumb. It wasn't the end of the world. It was nice to know something about myself, because I sure didn't know much about anything else. And maybe I was dumb, but I was still pretty, and nice, and I had a great mother and a lady who was more than happy to take care of me. There were worse lives to live.

* * *

 **Quinoa: short, chestnut brown hair and dark brown eyes. She has freckles. Her skin is tan from working outside a lot. She is short for her age, but very muscular and strong.**

 **Randy: a dark-skinned guy with a beautiful chocolately complexion. He has some freckles and he's pretty well-built, and he has dazzling blue eyes (sugar baby, so he's gotta be cute)**


	13. Twelve Reaping

Thunderous Copper- District Twelve male (Seventeen when Reaped, fourteen during this scene)

Twelve was, no doubt, the filthiest, most rundown place in Panem. It was demeaning that someone like me had to live here. Me, the son of a politician and a Capitolite. The only reason I didn't live in the Capitol was because my mother cared so much about her job. She wanted to "make a difference" and "make Twelve a better place". Why couldn't she let this dump rot and take us where we belonged?

A little kid ran past me, almost brushing against me in his haste. He had the ugly gray skin and limp black hair of the Seam. I sneered as I scuffed a hand over my pants, just in case he got some dirt on me.

"Hey, kid!" I yelled after him. "What you got there?"

"A cake!" the boy said, turning to show me the box.

That didn't sound right. A Seam kid, with a store-bought cake? "You stole it, didn't you?"

"No!" the boy said, glaring at me, like he was in any position to glare at someone of my station. "It's for my mom's birthday. We've been saving."

"Sure. That's why you were running. It definitely wasn't because you know they're going to come after you," I said.

"I didn't steal it," the boy insisted, stopping to show me he wasn't in a hurry.

"It doesn't really matter if you did, does it?" I asked. "It just matter if someone _thinks_ you did it."

"Go ask the storekeeper. He'll tell you I didn't," the boy said.

"You sure about that? You sure he wouldn't see a chance to literally have his cake and eat it too? Especially since he has a witness," I said.

"What's your problem, anyway?" the boy asked, starting to get nervous.

"I just don't see what a mine rat like you needs with a store-made cake. It's wasted on someone like you," I said. "Who are they gonna believe? The mayor's kid, or a cake-stealing tramp?"

"What do you want? You want me to take it back?" the boy asked, his voice wavering.

"Don't worry about that. I'll take it off your hands and see the proper owner gets it," I said. The "proper owner" being me.

"Fine. Just take it and leave me alone," the boy said. He shoved the box into my arms and turned away. "She doesn't know about it anyway. It was a surprise."

After all that effort, I never did eat that cake. Seeing that boy walk away, so slow and sad compared to how he'd been running earlier, did something to me. And those words kept echoing in my head. _It was a surprise._ I'd had surprise parties before. With presents and streamers and store-bought cakes. Sure, Seam kids didn't deserve fancy things like that, but something about it didn't sit right with me. I left the box on the doorstep of a random house. I always wondered if whoever lived there ate the cake, or if they went outside without noticing and stepped on it. I could have followed the kid and given it back, but I wasn't _that_ sorry. Shoot me dead if a Seam kid ever heard me apologize.

* * *

Penelope Ruto- District Twelve female

My brother Darryl died in paradise. In an Arena with forty-eight children, one of the boys from One picked him out of the crowd and fired an arrow into his eye. He fell into a field of pastel flowers, bleeding dark blood against their swaying stems.

I knew even then that it wouldn't be the last time we'd speak. I dreamed of him every night for a month after he died. He wasn't at rest. In my dreams, he wept blood from the arrow sticking from his eye. His mouth was an endless void, moving silently as he tried to tell me something. He could never get it out, but I wouldn't leave him like that. If he couldn't say it in my dreams, I would find him somewhere else.

A yellowed flyer on a library corkboard got me started. The occult classes turned out to be nothing but a bunch of tree-hugging "Wiccan" teen girls, but I didn't stop there. I found more books, and bent-backed old women willing to tell me old wives' tales. I read the books and tried out the folk spells, rarely getting anything more than a chill down my spine. But the most important thing was the intent, and I had that in spades.

Every full moon, I called him. In the dark of the early morning, when no one was out but witches, I laid the signs. I painted the dirt in blood and made the life-sacrifice. I felt the air swell around me and the shift of worlds, but I never heard his voice. Even when I called him on the anniversary of his death, still there was nothing.

 _Maybe this time,_ I thought as I hauled the bucket out into the woods. The knife tied to my belt, usually gleaming in the moonlight, was dark under the new moon. It had been two years since he'd died. He would be gathering power on the other side, and maybe he was finally strong enough.

I stuck the knife into the flopping bait-fish I'd bought from the Hob. It was easier with a fish than with the mice I'd used the first few times. I knew it was hypocritical to care more about "cute" animals, but it just made it easier for me. As I gutted it, I hummed to myself.

I unspooled the fish's intestines in one long piece, carefully laying them out in a pattern I'd seen in one of my books. I was mostly flying blind in my efforts, trying one thing and then another to see what would work. I coated my hand in the fish's blood, stamping two handprints in the dirt and then tapping my hand to both of my cheeks.

"Darryl. Darryl. Darryl," I chanted over and over, bowing my head low and letting my eyes go unfocused. My voice grew monotone and rhythmic, the words and letters blurring and losing their meaning. I noticed my eyes had closed at some point, and I wasn't sure anymore what I was saying. The letters slurred into nonsense syllables, and then into sounds I wasn't sure I'd ever made before. The thoughts in my head went quiet, and then blank.

From nowhere, I was thrown violently to the ground. I landed on my side, my lips spasming as my body shook all over. My fingers scratched lines into the dirt and the juices from the intestines seeped into my dress.

A voice spoke from my mouth.

"Two years."

 _Yes,_ I thought somehow, though my brain was quaking just like my body. _You've been dead for two years._

"No."

 _What is it, Darryl? What do you want to say?_

"Until you get Reaped."

Then my body was mine again, and I lay panting and exhausted under the dark sky. The stench of fish filled the air, and I tried in vain to wipe it from me as I sat up.

 _That was why you were so afraid._ I'd finally spoken to my brother, and it hadn't comforted me at all. I wanted him back, for longer. If I wasn't so tired, and if I had another fish, I would have tried right away. I tried to cast my thoughts back to where they'd been, but there was nothing left of his presence. He'd used all his energy to tell me what he'd known all this time, and had been so afraid of. Two years until I went to the same place he'd gone.

* * *

 **Boy howdy I'm getting the weird ones this year. Thanks very much for making me spook myself out twice writing these at night.**

 **Thunderous: A handsome guy with slick blonde hair, brown eyes and a small nose. He has a straight back, and look's quite dignified. He's also thin.**

 **Penelope:** : **tango india november yoyo underwear romeo lima . charlie oscar mike SLASH yoyo delta foxtrot kilo 3 7 victor 8**


	14. Ten Reaping

Osiris Horatio- District Ten male

Everyone has secrets. Some don't matter, like a man who doesn't think his wife is pretty anymore but has no intentions of doing anything with the women he looks at. Others are big secrets, but they belong to little people. I didn't care if a penniless button seller once killed a Peacekeeper who followed her home at night. She didn't have anything I wanted, so I left her secrets alone. But if I wanted to, I could. If I wanted to, I could blow the lid off just about anything. No one in Ten was safe from me.

 **Last one yay!**

* * *

It wasn't always like this. I used to be a normal boy, with normal desires. And I had my own normal secrets, and that was how I learned how dangerous they could be. Argus was my best friend. We went hunting together, for little things no one would miss and the Peacekeepers didn't care about, like muskrats and pigeons. That was a secret, too, but it wasn't what started it all. It was something so much less dirty.

It was Argus that did it. I was only doing what was natural. I'd seen the way he looked at me, and how he valued the time we spent alone in the woods. We were there almost every day. It was inevitable that someday one of us would act on it. I sidled up to him like a cat, and I did what we'd both wanted to do for so long.

The kiss lasted less than a second, and it undid everything. Argus' face shattered me like glass- the way his eyes went hard and his lip curled up as if at some putrid stench. He ran from the forest, leaving me wondering what went wrong.

The next day, everything changed. People skirted around me in the halls, laughing as they left. They clustered against the walls, tittering and looking at me, then looking away when I looked back. I didn't think it was possible. I didn't _want_ to think it, and I refused to until one of them came up to me.

"You actually thought Argus would go for someone like you? What a freak," the boy said.

 _He told._ For the second time, he broke my heart. It was then that I knew exactly what the world was like, and just how valuable secrets were.

Ever since then, I'd never given a single one away. Instead, I collected. I knew everything about everyone. No one noticed me watching, because after the rumors died down and blew over, they forgot all about me. I never fell in love again and I never made another friend, because I knew what they could do to share. Friendship meant sharing. I would rather take.

* * *

Aspasia Sommer- District Ten female

There was so much good in Ten. There was good in all of Panem, but that didn't erase the bad. Good was so much harder to nurture than bad. So many people wanted to help, but wanting to help wasn't enough. People were so generous with their money and time, but they did things that didn't end up helping at all.

My best friend Periko and I were determined to make a difference. We sat on either side of the upended hay-twine stool that served as the table in our headquarters in an overgrown field and studied our list.

 _Secret Help District Ten Project_

 _By Aspasia and Periko_

 _Ideas:_

 _Secretly buy things for people_

 _Learn how to be veterinarians so we can fix animals for free_

 _Scholarships for poor kids_

 _Tesserae relief fund_

"You know what all of these have in common?" I asked Periko.

"Money?" he asked.

"Money," I said. Neither of us were _poor,_ but we weren't _rich_ either. It was going to be hard to give a lot of money away if we didn't have a lot of money.

"We need to figure out how to get a lot of money," Periko said.

"If there was a way to do that, everyone would have done it," I said, thinking about something. "We need a way to do a lot with a little bit of money."

"Like budget?" Periko asked.

"What about… instead of giving money away, we loan it?" I asked.

"Then we're just like the banks! Everyone will be in debt," Periko said.

"Little tiny loans," I said. "Enough for someone to buy a cow or fix a fence," I said. "We give the people the money and tell them it's like a loan. They can take as long as they need, but once they get it paid off, instead of giving it to us, they give someone else a loan."

"So the one loan keeps on going," Periko added.

"It won't be just us helping," I said. "It will be everyone helping each other."

"That's way better than the veterinarian thing," Periko said.

* * *

 **This one's really short. I didn't plan it, I just got my point across in fewer words this time.**

 **Aspasia: an average sized teenager with a slightly above average build. She's of Middle Eastern and Mediterranean descent and has wavy black hair with tan skin and chocolate brown eyes. Her hair parts in the middle and her curls frame her face.**

 **Osiris: tall and slender, his skin is olive. He has cat-eyes, which have the color of sparkling emeralds. A nice contrast to his darker skin. Osiris also has very long chocolate brown hair that falls to his shoulders. He likes to keep it up in a messy bun. He wears round glasses. Although he doesn't exercise much, he has a naturally muscular build. Osiris has two ear piercings on his left ear and wears a necklace with a tooth attached to it ( Not his tooth but of some wild animal, he hunted down with his best friend ). He wears a lot of fur from animals that he has hunted down.**

 **That's funny, they're both Mediterranean.**


	15. The Right Stuff

Blake Armani- District One mentor

"You didn't even want to be here, did you?" I asked Vera.

"I just trained for self-defense, like if I got jumped or something," she said.

"And Royce wasn't the volunteer either," I said, mostly to myself. I had two Tributes, neither of which wanted to or were supposed to be here. And one stole his slot, meaning that the sponsors- the lifeblood of a Career and pretty much the only thing that let them win so regularly- hated them. Lovely.

* * *

Jerky McJerkface- District One mentor

"You're not Luster."

"Sorry. I know," Royce said.

"It was the broad, wasn't it?" I asked.

"What? The… do you mean Vera?" Royce asked.

"She better be a prime lay for all that," I said.

Royce's cheeks got all red. "Don't talk about her like that," he said.

"Excuse me? Who's the mentor here?" I said.

"I don't know, but it sounds like only one of us is a man," Royce said, and he stormed out of the car. He'd come crawling back eventually.

* * *

Pray Jager- District Two mentor

For the first time, my little hellion was sitting next to me. I was trying to keep a straight face, since the last thing Enobaria wanted was me laughing at her. She was just so _eager._ I hadn't seen her this excited since her first sparring match.

Anyone else might have judged Cormac and Siobhan for leaving their baby. Outsiders didn't understand. This was our way. Any child would prefer no parents to cowards. Losing a relative brought honor to an entire family. I wasn't disappointed in the slightest of Cormac and Siobhan. I just hoped the boy measured up to them.

* * *

Gidget Ford- District Three mentor

When Acee and I got to the train car, Barnaby was fishing something out of his bag.

"Oh, dear," he said quietly when he revealed a smashed cupcake.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, and he looked over in surprise. "Did your parents make that for you?"

"No…" he said, but he didn't finish.

"Oh, did _you_ make it?" I asked. "I _love_ baking! We can make another one in the Capitol if you want."

Barnaby put the cupcake back in his bag and stood up straight. "I should train on useful things," he said.

"Sure, sure," I said. " _And_ we should bake cupcakes."

* * *

Acee Hal- District Three mentor

Lulu sat wringing her hands, glancing out the window every few seconds.

"You leave a cute boy behind or something?" I asked.

"My big sister. She's… not normal," she said.

"Oh, she's special needs? That's rough, but I'm gonna tell you something even rougher. You can't think about her. If you want to get back to her, everything has to be about you now," I said. I didn't want to be hard on her. It was just the cold equations.

"I know," Lulu said. The tears still shone in her eyes as she looked out the window.

"Hey, it's okay," I said. "A little birdy told me Gidget is a total mama bear. Somehow, when someone leaves a family behind, they always up end up taken care of. So let's take care of _you."_

* * *

Careen Ellis- District Four mentor

We had a poisoner. Far be it from me to say, but they were never my favorite. Part of it was my own experience with their kind. Angelo broke up our entire alliance and killed Theo without even a chance to fight back. It was clever, and I couldn't hold myself above it knowing I fought just as hard to win, but it always seemed unsporting to me. I'd still help Tuilelaith, both out of professional courtesy and respect for life, but she would never be my favorite. But _c'est le guerre._ All's fair.

* * *

Shane Donegal- District Four mentor

Faust was one of the ones that thought he was fighting for something worthwhile. I could see it in his demeanor, so much like mine all those years ago.

"It's not going to be glorious," I said.

He looked up in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"If you think this will be a noble fight, it isn't. You're going to watch children die and if you win, you'll kill some of them," I said.

"What about you? Do you wish you hadn't gone?"

"Every day. Something good can come out of this, but that's what it will be. A little bit of good out of a whole lot of bad. You can get past it and you can be happy again, but this is gonna suck."

* * *

Sky Levings- District Five mentor

Rachel was sitting politely across the table, clearly not knowing what any of the multiple forks were but at least trying not to be rude about it. She didn't seem anything like the _incident_ I'd heard about.

"You seem… normal," I said.

"Oh, boy. You talking about the fights?" she asked. "I don't know what it is. It's like in cartoons when someone gets smashed in the head and turns all different."

I'd have to do more research. I'd heard of Dissociative Identity Disorder, but it was either extremely rare or, in many doctors' opinions, ersatz. And when something like that _did_ happen, it was usually caused by massive childhood trauma. A puzzle indeed.

* * *

Erwin Jackson- District Five mentor

"Thank you for mentoring me. I'm ready to start training whenever you want," Edison said.

"You want to get to the killing part?" I asked, testing him.

"I don't _want_ to. I just have to," he said. It wasn't ideal, but it wasn't the worst.

"Can you teach me how to fight with a knife?" Edison asked.

"You never watched my Games, did you?" I asked. "I used my bare hands."

Edison recoiled slightly in his seat. In the silence that followed, he avoided my eyes.

"Sorry," he said. Not for what he'd said, because it wasn't wrong. Just for what was.

* * *

Lancia Audren- District Six mentor

Jules rearranged his forks, catching a strange glance from me and Demi.

"I've always seen the salad fork on the outside of the fish fork," he explained, and got to smoothing out the tablecloth.

 _Weird kid,_ I thought. But I'd been around the block a few times. He was probably setting up a "clueless" persona to throw people off.

"So gymnastics is your thing, right?" Demi asked.

"I dabble a bit, sure," I said.

"Is that like parkour? Do you know how to do fancy gymnastic fight stuff?" she asked.

"You kind of got a tough break. I am literally the only Victor who never got anywhere near a fight," I said.

"Oh," Demi said. "Can you do fancy jumping spin kicks or something?"

"I might have a few moves."

* * *

Hades Rodriguez- District Seven mentor

It was finally getting to where I felt older than my Tributes, and maybe even qualified to teach them.

"Word is it's going to be an outdoor Arena this time," I said. That wasn't exactly groundbreaking, since most of them were, but you never knew. "If you need to know about animals, I know just about everything." Maybe not everything, but a lot, anyway.

"Can I hold your lizard?" Laurel asked. I held my arm next to hers and nudged Bacchus. He slowly meandered over and settled on her shoulder. Then we were both happy.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven mentor

"H-hello?" I asked, peeking through the doorway to the Seven car. "Don't be nervous. It's just me. Can I come in?"

Mico didn't say anything, and that was worse. He looked at me so blankly, with only the faintest traces of fear and discomfort. He didn't want me there.

"I'm going to help you get home, okay?" I said.

"I'll have to kill people," Mico said softly.

 _That's not the half of it._

* * *

Tillo Peters- District Eight mentor

Dagny was in shock. I saw it sometimes. The blank stare, the stony silence, the detached obedience to anything I mentioned. Maybe she'd snap out of it before we reached the Capitol. Usually they did. Until then, it gave me peace and quiet.

"Good day. You look very nice," Brocade said.

"I have a son older than you," I said. Funny it came up, since I'd been thinking about from the moment I saw them. Hunter had just recently aged out of the Reaping, which made the world seem just a little less terrible. Not _much_ less terrible, since you shouldn't have to age out of being murdered. But it gave me enough humor to fire back at a pipsqueak kid trying to flatter someone who was literally only here to help him.

* * *

Nassor Doyle- District Nine mentor

"What do you two do?"

"Work in the fields…" Quinoa said, her expression reminding me just how stupid a question that was.

"Oh, kind of a dumb question, I guess," I said.

"I'm a sugar baby," Randy piped up.

"Wow, I guess it wasn't a dumb question," Quinoa mused. "Like people pay you to be pretty?"

"Someone's gotta do it," Randy said.

"Honestly, that's not even useless," I said. "Keep doing what you're doing. You're going to have so many sponsors."

"Wish I could get sponsors for looking pretty," Quinoa said. "I have to actually _work."_

* * *

Calvary Warsaw- District Ten mentor

I knew Aspasia. Her friend Periko did the public appearances, but Aspasia was the brains of their outfit. She'd even come to the Victor's Village once, pretending to be an unassuming messenger but actually asking if we'd donate to her micro-loans fund. I chipped in a handful of coins, and of course Cornflower sent her away loaded with money and knitted scarves and half a dozen boxes of cookies. It was a shame seeing her again now. She deserved so much better.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland- District Ten mentor

A long time ago, I was a little like Osiris. I got bullied too, and it sure was funny how everyone wanted to be my friend when I got back. But there was something that gave me pause. I reacted to the bullies by pulling inward and retreating into my books. Osiris pulled away, too, but he turned himself out toward others, watching them and resenting them. It wasn't healthy. But I didn't know enough about healthy to help.

* * *

Hlenn Rambutan- District Eleven mentor

" _Daffodil Starshine?_ Shoot, that name's as silly as a Capitolite," I said.

"I was pretty young when they picked it," she said.

"What do you do all day, drink rainbows and pet bunnies?" I asked.

"I can shoot a bow," she said.

 _Of course you can. Because you're perfect._

"How about you?" I asked Cedar.

"Uh, I'm really good at gambling," he offered.

"Honestly, that's not the worst skill to have."

* * *

Nubu Sanders- District Twelve mentor

Thunderous was running his mouth about how he didn't deserve to be here. I would have listened, but I was completely distracted by Penelope. There was a horrid emptiness in her eyes, and worse, there was something filling it, something that wasn't her.

 _There's something wrong with her. For heaven's sake, I hope she gets out._


	16. Maybe It's Maybelline

Hollan Makhpiya- District One stylist

My heart clenched when I saw Vera up close. The scar on her cheek was barely noticeable, but I knew too much about faces to overlook it. The faintly ruddy streak came from repeated trauma- from the skin opening over and over as a hand hit the same place. The spots on her throat were more obvious. Collapsed capillaries, caused by acute pressure.

* * *

Tigris Chatte- District Two stylist

"I assume you to would like to match?" I asked Siobhan and Cormac. "Perhaps a Mars and Venus angle?" I asked when they nodded.

"Would Venus be, like… really skimpy?" Siobhan asked.

"Hey, why you assuming? Maybe I'm Venus," Cormac said.

"Can we do Mars and Latona?" Siobhan asked.

"Warfare and parenthood. They go together, don't they?" I mused.

* * *

Paris Tile- District Three stylist

 _I can't believe I'm really here._

I was here last year too, of course, but not as _stylist._ Last year, I was Cilantro's right-hand man. But he wouldn't be here next year. My mentor Cilantro was about to leave this grueling world behind and take a well-deserved permanent golf break. I could only hope I lived up to him.

"Is there anything you'd like to try?" I asked Lulu.

"I can _pick?"_ she asked with delight.

"You know what works with your face," I said.

"I've never worn makeup before," she said, and I gasped in soft sympathy. It really _is_ hard to be a Districter.

* * *

Rouge Twain- District Four stylist

Tuilelaith held a tube of eyeshadow in the palm of one hand and some bronzer in the other.

"If you mixed these together and snorted them, it would be poisonous," she said.

"Why would you snort makeup?" I asked.

* * *

Blush Paletti- District Five mentor

My assistant Ajax helped me set out supplies as we waited for our Tributes.

"I hear Rachel is kind of strange," he said.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Apparently she has two personalities or something?" he said.

"Oh! Does she have two faces? I'll have to make two looks," I said.

* * *

Puff Auri- District Six mentor

I dearly hoped Demi made it. I hoped Jules did as well, but I didn't think that was as likely. The polite, well-mannered ones never won. It took someone angrier and dirtier, like Demi. I didn't know why I bothered hoping. Even if one of them won, one would still die, and I would still be sad.

* * *

Flora Kettle- District Seven stylist

"I have a really weird question," Laurel said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Can I ask it in another room?" she asked.

We discreetly changed rooms, me keeping mum since it was obviously something like her period or an insecurity.

"Can I ride separate from Mico?" Laurel asked. "He's really creepy."

* * *

Mint Goblet- District Eight stylist

Brocade looked at all the makeup and supplies with nothing short of wonder.

"This must cost a fortune," he said.

"I suppose so. I don't pay for it," I said.

"Everything here is fancy," he said.

"Kind of a waste," Dagny said.

" _WHAT?!"_

* * *

Baste Marinade- District Nine stylist

Sometimes, the gods smile upon you. I smiled back at them when they sent me Randy.

"Let's make you _gorgeous!"_ I said.

"I love being gorgeous!" Randy said. _Perfect._

* * *

Pheobe Vane- District Ten stylist

Osiris was my new muse. With his simmering Egyptian looks, he was perfect for my high-fashion vision. And Aspasia was also pretty.

 _Egypt… they grew plants, right? So they had farms, right?_ I could go with that. I could explain it and have it make some sense. And it would be so stunning.

* * *

Creme Brulee- District Eleven stylist

I got a good pair this year. Daffodil had a modest, unassuming beauty, and Cedar had the compelling aura of someone who doesn't need to impress anyone and likes himself for who he is.

"This is a little silly, but we can't pass up a chance like this," I said, taking out the yellow dress patterned with daffodils. All I needed after that was a trip to the florist.

* * *

Cuisine Martinique- District Twelve stylist

"Did you hear the girl from Five is a loony?" I asked Penelope. She looked back at me with stony, dead eyes and a blank face.

 _Oh… ooooookay then…._

"Did you hear about the girl from Five?" I asked Thunderous. " _I_ hear she's a loony."

* * *

 **A fond goodbye to Cilantro Pestle, who has burned out on watching kids die. He will enjoy golf much more.**

 **Next vote is here! Do you all want a normal parade, a Laurels, or something new?**


	17. Parade

**Wow I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written!**

 **I took so long because I only got three votes. Of course one was for each choice. Probably most people just didn't vote because this was only an extra vote I threw in for fun and didn't really affect the Games. Since I got one of each, and one person said they mostly wanted the costumes, I overlapped a little and did something new inside a normal parade, giving every Tribute a POV of different parts.**

* * *

Royce Triatho- District One male

"Are you sure?" I asked Rhoda, my neck craned down so I could look at my bedazzled front.

"It's very One," she said, shrugging.

"I love my District and all…" I started.

"You look like that guy from the history books," Vera said. "The piano guy."

"Is that good?" I asked.

"It's… very One," Vera said.

* * *

Vera Triatho- District One female

The Parade was… _overwhelming._ The wide-open, exposed corridor that made me feel like I could be attacked on any side. The screaming crowds bearing down on me like menacing banshees. The sheer weight of the emotion, everything from adoration to lust, that made me so aware that I was the center of attention.

But there were good things, too. Like my dress, a pure beautiful white gown that made me feel like a swan instead of a half-drowned duckling. Its hem changed from pink through blue and purple, like the roses I held went from pink to red. I threw them one by one into the crowd, like Rhoda had wanted.

Then it was time for the other thing Rhoda wanted. There was nothing they wanted more, she'd said in a mournfully bitter tone. Royce embraced me suddenly and we kissed. The crowd exploded and I imploded, hiding behind the roses so they couldn't see my cheeks were as red as the flowers.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male

 _What… is… THAT?!_

I'd seen horses in storybooks, but they always seemed like they were just that: stories, mythical creatures from far away, when everything was black and white and people wore togas. I'd never thought about the fact that I'd never imagined a horse in real life.

The dove-white creature before me made the cutest _hrrhhhrrhrr_ sounds when something caught its attention, like a purring dragon. It swished its tail airily and clopped its hooves on the ground.

The Avox holding the horse's bridle cocked her head in its direction, and it looked to me like she smiled a bit.

"I can _touch_ it?" The meaning was clear. I reached out an arm and laid a hand on the horse. It was soft and warm and the best thing ever.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

I'd never looked at Cormac as closely as I should have. Seeing him in the chariot was a revelation. He was flipping out over the horse, petting it and grinning when it flicked its tail. He kept looking over at me like _did you see that? You saw that, right?_ It wasn't often in Two that people so earnestly showed their hearts. I knew Cormac could kill people, but this was something far rarer.

 _He will be an amazing father._

I'd already seen that he was. He doted on our son. He was the entire reason our son was _alive._ I couldn't deny that the better outcome for Sean was that Cormac came home. With me, Sean would be protected and loved. With his father, Sean would be _treasured._ He would be nurtured and embraced and told every day how much he was loved. My reasons for volunteering went past our son, as did my life, but if I died and Cormac won, I could rest in peace. Cormac had enough love for both of us.

* * *

Barnaby Mercator- District Three male

Why, oh why, did I have to be a plug?

Why would anyone think this was a good costume? I had three prongs sticking out of my face like a stupid triceratops. My face was painted silver and I was wearing white overalls that hung around me like a tube.

 _This is so demeaning…_

I couldn't look the audience in the eyes. I couldn't look Lulu in the eyes. I just stared straight ahead, trying with all my might to retain a single shred of dignity.

 _It's bad enough they're gonna kill me. This is just evil._

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

My dress was made of a million shiny microchips, swirling out when I moved like so many sequins. With all those eyes on me and a dress prettier than anything I'd ever own hanging off me, I felt like something worth looking at.

There had to be ten thousand people in the stands. They went on forever, until the last rows were drowned out by the lights hanging from the ceiling. I didn't even know the point of buying a ticket for those last rows. I would look like a tiny dot from up there.

The Capitolites were alien creatures, all painted up and yelling in their weird, fairylike accents. I looked from face to face, wondering about the lives of the people so interested in me. I indulged myself in a fleeting daydream about a Capitolite boy my age who fell in love with me at first sight, and insisted on taking me away from all this, and bringing me and Leslie to the Capitol to live in a mansion that would surely seem like a castle to us. It was only a dream, of course. But here, under these lights, in this dress, parading like a princess before all these people, it could seem real.

* * *

Faust Xantina- District Four male

The parade didn't feel that much different from home. I didn't usually have _this_ many people looking at me, but I was used to attention. Whether it was parties at home or other scouts at the Academy, there was usually someone talking about me. It didn't make me important or anything, it just meant I was used to it.

I smiled politely and waved at the crowd, keeping one hand on the chariot so I wouldn't fall off when it hit bumps. I was more interested in the other chariots than the audience. I craned my neck to look past the ones right by us and see all the different costumes.

 _What in the world is Barnaby wearing?_

* * *

Tuilelaith Gladstone- District Four female

My flowing blue gown draped over the edge of the chariot, rippling like waves as the chariot bounced. I waved gracefully, my hand outstretched and demurely flattened.

Things had gone much better than expected. I had been nervous about Capitol fashion, fearing that their idea of "fancy" might be tacky gewgaws or clashing colors. I was quite pleased with how my outfit had turned out, and it was likely apparent from the fraction of sincerity in my practiced soft smile.

In the audience, the Capitolites were so many sources of money, their painted faces all seeming to me like Snow's profile on Panemian currency. Any of them could be the one that sent me the supplies I needed to win the Games before it had hardly begun. And so I put on my prettiest face and my bashfullest, most winsome smile, becoming everything they wanted. For a moment's illusion I could have a lifetime of victory.

* * *

Edison Westbrook- District Five male

As one of the stylists adjust my makeup, her fat ruby ring hovered inches from my face. She kept putting her hand down to refill the brush with powder. It would have been so easy to slip it off her hand. She wouldn't even notice. People overlook the biggest things when they don't know to look for them. Her hand would be inches from her face as well as she painted me, and she woudn't notice the cherry-sized jewel that was no longer on her finger, or the little pale circle it would leave.

But I didn't take it, because it made no difference. Here, I had everything I wanted (except for not being here). I didn't need money. When I went into the Arena, all the rubies in the world wouldn't be worth anything. And either way, I'd never need them again. All my life I'd worked myself to the bone trying to keep afloat. That wasn't going to be the case anymore. The ruby nearly touching my eye was just another shiny red rock.

* * *

Rachel Larson- District Five female

Edison was huddled on the other side of the chariot, almost overbalancing over the side as he bent his back to get farther away from me.

"You got a problem or something?" I asked, not aggressively.

Edison, buried under a mirror image of the bulky biohazard bodysuit I wore, shook his head.

"Is this about the arm thing?" I asked. "Look, I don't even remember it. Okay, that makes it sound worse. But I'm not here to break arms, so relax."

Edison stood straight, but didn't move from the side of the chariot.

"How would I even do it? You're wearing half a foot of rubber," I said, and I smiled. "Remember, always wear protection."

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

The Victors from One always said the parade was the first crucial moment for a Tribute. First impressions are usually the _only_ impressions, and the parade is when you look your most colorful and impressive. Capitolites live for spectacle. Part of the reason outer Districts hardly ever win is that they usually have dull outfits in the parade. Capitolites don't want to sponsor them, and they starve to death while "prettier" children are showered with Capitol delicacies.

My outfit wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst. By Six standards, I was very lucky. Instead of something insane like a railroad track, Demi and I had boring but at least sharp-looking conductor outfits. I was also lucky to be paired with Demi, since she was, in my opinion, more classically attractive than average. Mere proximity would boost my attractiveness. I stuck close to her as the chariot moved down the aisle.

There is nothing a Capitolite likes more than to be a patron to a muse. I acted the part of a starry-eyed ingenue, blinking gratefully at my potential saviors under the harsh lights. If just one of them chose me, they had more than enough money to keep me safe.

* * *

Demi Johal- District Six female

Our outfits were okay, but our chariot was way cool. Most stylists did the same boring things year after year. One of Puff's assistants went the extra mile and bedazzled out chariot as well as us. The whole thing looked like a train car- just one that went really, really slow for a train. The horses weren't too happy about the extra weight, but _I_ was overjoyed that we were the ones that stood out. I just wished I could jump on the front of the train, or even the horses.

I wondered, without having any plans of actually doing it, how far I could get into the crowd before the Peacekeepers hauled me away. I'd never heard of it happening. Would they shoot a Tribute and have to get a whole new one? In all the chaos, between totally surprised Peacekeepers and no doubt a few Capitolites willing to help such a daring escapade, could I slip right out? If I got out of the building, I could disappear forever in such a colorful, artificial city.

No, I wouldn't have a chance. I stayed in the chariot, with Jules hovering right beside me.

 _Why's he being so weird? Does he have the hots for me?_

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

"Hhhhhhhhheeeeyyyyyy Mmmmmmiiiiiccccccoooooo I'IIIIIIImmmm aaaaaaa treeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

"Okay? Trees talk really slow?" he asked.

"Oooohhhh mmmmyyy goooooodnnnnnessssss yyyyyyyyyooooooouuuu hhhhhaaavvvveeeeennn't rrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeead Llllllllllloooooooorrrrrrd ooooooofff theeeeeeee Rrrrrrrrriiiiiiinnnnggggggssss?" I asked. "IIIII ttthhhooooought eeeeeevvvvveeeerrrrryyyyyooooonnnne rrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeead ttthhhhaaaat."

"You're weird," Mico said, looking at me oddly before he went off to get his own costume applied.

 _That's rich coming from the demon kid,_ I thought. The only other thing bothering me was the completely blown opportunity. My name was Laurel Pine, and they made me a maple tree.

* * *

Mico Samson- District Seven male

Karma got me. I'd been mentally chuckling at Laurel stuck as a tree, and then Flora got out _my_ costume.

I was a termite.

That didn't even make any sense. It was like dressing a Four up as a camel. But even if it did, it was still the most ridiculous thing I'd ever seen. I had a hat with dangly antennae, and segmented goggles, and two extra arms flopping at my sides, attached the the brown feltish bodysuit.

I spent the entire chariot ride with Laurel cackling and hooting beside me. She was being pretty cavalier about being right next to her worst enemy. And then, right at the end, she added one drawn-out, slow-motion laugh, like apparently trees do in The Ring Lord? Whatever.

* * *

Brocade Ristallo- District Eight male

I never got tired of seeing the Capitol. I exulted in the shameless, decadent excess that dripped from every inch of it. I loved the jewel-toned faces and the garments that cost more than I would earn in a lifetime. This was the place I belonged. I was born to live here.

As I waited for the parade to start, I was scheming. There had to be a way for me to stay here. The only way to move to the Capitol was to be invited. Even the Victors usually stayed in their villages. But there were ways to get invited. I could charm one of the ditzier or more romantic Capitolites, until they were convinced we were soulmates and then propose marriage and a fairy-tale ending. If that didn't work, I could take the more honest route and find enough dirt to blackmail someone. Trophy husband or dirty secret, I was going to find a way to stay. This was just the place for someone like me.

* * *

Dagny Sigurdson- District Eight female

My outfit was pretty cool. It was really two outfits, since it split down the middle. The left side was the "real" me, so it was a flouncy, pretty dress. The other half was the "Games" me. It was a copy of the Arena outfit from the Forty-Fourth Hunger Games: a loose-fitting, light colored shirt and pants that wicked moisture and protected the Tributes from the sun. One the one half my hair was up, and on the Games side it was mussed. Likewise, the Games clothes were ripped up and smeared with fake blood.

"So how do you get to be a stylist?" I asked Mint.

"It's _very_ prestigious," she said proudly. "You apply to the Aesthetics Institute with a full portfolio. If they decide to look at that, they might ask you to the first round of auditions. Less than one in a hundred applicants are asked. For the first audition they provide a style and mood, and you design and apply a makeup look on the spot. Less than ten percent get past that audition. There are five more, testing everything from garment design to color theory."

"What would you have done if you hadn't gotten in?" I asked.

"My fallback was med school."

* * *

Quinoa Farmer- District Nine female

 _This is_ not _a good day oh my goodness when will it be over._

I was so excited for the parade. I was so excited to have all those eyes on me and look like a million bucks and show everyone how confident and strong I was. Now the only thing I could think of was how very itchy straw was.

My outfit was most certainly made from someone who had never been to Nine. Straw is the bane of our existence. The worst week of the year is hay-storing week. All day long you stand in the blazing sun, guiding hay bales along conveyor belts into huge barns. Your throat gets all dry and your hands get covered in stinging little grass cuts. And worst of all, the straw gets _everywhere._ It wiggles into every crack, down your shirt and into your underpants, itching and rubbing. My dad called it "herpes weed", but he wouldn't tell my why until I was sixteen. He was right, though. Once you have straw down your shirt, it's there forever.

* * *

Randy Mill- District Nine male

Narcissa must have loved my outfit. Surely she was watching, and I tried to look my best for her. I was a big buff farm boy, with a sleeveless shirt to show my arms and rips placed just to expose my abs. Quinoa was busy being itchy, but everyone else could see how hot I was. And I didn't think it was too braggy to think I was hot, since there was very little else going for me.

I struck a pose, flexing my arms behind my head and arching my back. That was what the people came for, and I did my best to provide. It seemed to me that the parade was going to be much more fun than the Games. Unless we all wore this outfit. But some of us probably wouldn't wear it as well.

* * *

Osiris Horatio- District Ten male

I was dressed as a farmer. Groundbreaking.

What was far more interesting to me than my outfit was the mentors. We were backstage, close enough that I could barely hear anything over the crowd and the lights were almost blinding. Cornflower was walking in circles around the makeup table, one hand over her ear and the other flapping like she was shooing flies. She was muttering something.

"You all right?" I asked, going over to her.

"Too loud! I don't like loud noise," she said, in a weirdly flat voice.

"Why not?" I asked.

Just then, Calvary and Bambi arrived. They took in the scene at a glance and seemed unsurprised.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked.

"She's just like that," Calvary said.

"Is she insane?" I asked. I'd heard stories about Crazy Cornflower, but I'd barely seen her since I got Reaped.

"She's autistic," Bambi said, like it was no big deal. And it really wasn't. I'd kept prying because I was always looking for dirt on someone, but this wasn't dirt. And I didn't need dirt on Cornflower. She was already trying to help me.

"Hey, I don't need three mentors here. You can go somewhere quiet," I said. She scuttled off, and I hoped she found somewhere nice and peaceful.

* * *

Aspasia Sommer- District Ten female

I was a milkmaid. Groundbreaking.

Seeing all the Capitolites made me a little sad. They were so animated and enthusiastic, but they seemed so pointless. They were people just like me, even if they had everything. They seemed like they wanted to help, but they didn't know enough about anything to know what needed to get done. Some of them were greedy and mean, but most of them were normal people who grew to their environments. If they knew what was really going on and saw how we lived, I was sure lots of them would want to help. They were an entirely different world, and I wished we could talk to each other.

I couldn't go changing the world just like that. Institutions were powerful, and change took time and energy. If I wanted to engage the Capitolites, I had to do it gently and gradually. I would start out by establishing my humanity- showing them that we weren't "Tributes", we were people. I smiled and waved and acted like a normal kid would when put in front of an entire nation. I'd get my chance to talk during the interviews. Maybe I could say something important there. And if I didn't, and I died in the Arena, maybe some of them would be sad that a person died, and that was a start.

* * *

Cedar Hedgeson- District Eleven male

I had a lot going on. The toga, the laurel wreaths, the pitchfork, and the snakes. Mostly the snakes, which I was assured were animatronics but were looking at me pretty creepily. And why did they have to hiss? No one could hear that but me.

Daffodil and I tried to put on a good show. We moved around, engaging the crowd and acting lively. I peeled off one of the snakes and swung it like a lasso, earning a shocked whoop from the crowd.

I would have expected a Capitol road to be smooth, but someone sure overlooked a monster pothole. The chariot lurched just as I was hopping sideways. I hit the edge and fell like a sack of spuds, landing lengthwise on the ground.

 _Wow, I've never seen that happen._ Between the gasps from the crowd and Daffodil's shocked expression, neither had anyone else. _What do I do?_

The horse didn't give a rat's butt and kept walking, and the horses behind me didn't care either. After a second of indecision, I got up and ran after the chariot. I jumped up and Daffodil helped me climb back in. I dusted myself off and stood tall.

"No one saw that, right?"

* * *

Daffodil Starshine- District Eleven female

I'd never heard of anyone falling off the chariot. I was afraid the Peacekeepers would think Cedar was trying to escape, especially when he started running. But he got back on with no trouble, and the rest of the parade went by smoothly. At least we certainly made an impression.

"Oh, you poor thing," Creme said to Cedar as he helped me unzip my dress. "Are you all right?"

"Don't worry, I've fallen down lots of times," Cedar said.

"I already have three sponsors interested in you," Creme said. "And _you…"_ he turned to me. "Two benefactors are interested in you."

"Me? I didn't even do anything," I said. I had a pretty dress, but that wasn't my doing.

"You helped me get up," Cedar pointed out.

"Anyone would have done that," I said, shrugging my arms.

"Guess they just have low standards then," Cedar joked.

"I guess so."

* * *

Thunderous Copper- District Twelve male

 _A coal miner. Sigh._

It was going to be difficult to charm sponsors with such a lackluster outfit. I looked just like every other Twelve since the Games began. This was why we never won.

Appearance is everything, especially in the Capitol. Perception was reality for people who used their senses much more than their brains. I didn't have to do anything, I just needed them to _think_ I did or was something. They weren't making it easy, but a good politician can work with nothing.

When one of them threw a rose, I took my shot. I snagged the flower and brought it closer, kissing it delicately. I clutched it to me for the rest of the parade, guaranteeing I'd connected at least with one Capitolite. Whoever it was would have friends, and they would hear all about me. A movement starts with one person.

* * *

Penelope Ruto- District Twelve female

People often told me I looked creepy. This far away from the crowd, no one could tell my smile was weird or my eyes were off. I just looked like a cute little girl, and I did everything to play it up. Darryl was shy and withdrawn during his parade. As far as I knew, he never got any sponsors. He sure didn't get any gifts. He died before I could finish raising enough money to send him armor, and I'd always held that blame inside me. I knew it wasn't my fault, but I still shared the blame.

Thunderous took my hand, which surprised me. Most people avoided me. He went right for it, and he looked down at me with a benevolent and placid expression.

 _Oh, real smooth._ Hold the little kid's hand. Let all the Capitolites see you befriending and guarding the cute little girl. Well, all right, then. If you get to be the loving big brother, I'll be the adorable little sister. We would see who got more sponsors out of it.


	18. Careers

Royce Triatho- District One male

I used to think there was some good in everyone. I now thought that there was some good in everyone but Jerky.

Vera was out discussing sponsors with our escort Philomena when I started watching tapes of previous Games. I'd seen a lot of them, but it was good to refresh. I was especially interested in the other mentors' Games, since they would be advising my competition. As soon as Jerky poked his overly-tan, greased-up face into the room and saw what I was watching, he plopped himself onto the couch.

"Ooh, you should watch my Games," he said.

"That's all-" I started, as he signaled the holographic television to switch programs.

"Who's the mentor?" he said, starting his own tape.

Truth be told, I hadn't watched his Games because I heard it was dull and anticlimactic. Obviously Jerky didn't have the same opinion. I watched in horror as he narrated his onscreen doppelganger's underhanded and dishonorable murders of his allies and anyone else who got in his way. When we got to the part where he killed the boy he'd enslaved and terrorized for weeks, I actually felt sick.

"Ahhh, Buttface. At least he got to be in my presence for a few days," Jerky reminisced with a satisfied smile. He turned to me.

"Speaking of, you only have a few days left. You smashing or what?"

No one had ever made me so angry so quickly as my mentor. "That's none of your business. And if I was, it wouldn't be 'smashing'. It would be making love," I said, surprising myself with my own boldness on such a private topic.

"Better hurry up," Jerky said, with a most unpleasant tone.

"Why?" I asked, already knowing I wouldn't like the answer.

"Girl's got eyes. I've seen how she looks at me. If you don't make your move quick, it's fair game for me to give her what she's asking for," Jerky said.

"She doesn't want anything to do with you," I said, my voice dangerously low.

" _Everyone_ wants to do with me. I'll-"

Jerky got halfway through describing a demeaning, profane act. Then I launched myself off the chair, knocking the couch backwards when I hit him and spilling both of us onto the floor. He looked more surprised than anything else the first time I punched him. Then he started to fight back, but there was a lot less to a paunchy, washed-up backstabber than he thought. We were both mussed up when Vera and Philomena interrupted, but one of us was far less worse for the wear.

"What in Snow's name?!" Philomena's squeaky old-lady voice broke my concentration. Jerky took the opportunity for a sucker-punch and wiggled out from under me as I recovered.

"He started it!" he whined, hiding behind Philomena.

"You said you were going to-"

That stopped the fight once and for all. Philomena fainted when I repeated Jerky's words, and if I hadn't caught her, he would have let her pushing-sixty face smack right into the floor.

* * *

Vera Triatho- District One female

 _It's like a fairy tale,_ I thought when I saw the ivy-decked table on a private balcony overlooking the neon lights and pulsating colors of the city below. I knew even then that it was ersatz- surely there was a camera recording our "intimate getaway" for the pleasure of the oohing Capitolites- but a story being fictional didn't make it unreal. We only had a few days left with each other, and I could suspend my cynicism for a moment.

For the next few hours, we said nothing of the Games. We talked about how fancy everything was and how good the food was and how nice it was to be alone. We reminisced about old times and swapped stories about the silliest things we'd seen Capitolites doing. And when we were done eating, we watched the city below.

"Bet I could spit on that guy," Royce commented out of nowhere, as a man walked by far beneath us.

"Don't!" I protested.

"I'm not going to," he said, with the tiniest bit of reluctance. "I just could."

"Why would you think about that?" I asked.

"It's a guy thing," he said. He smiled innocently, looking five years younger, like a boy again. It made me smile, and it pained me deep inside.

"What's wrong?" Royce asked, noticing the strain in my expression.

"We're a fairy tale," I said, and my lips quivered.

"Like Cinderella?" Royce asked.

That was how I used to view myself. Little Cinders Vera, saved from the wicked stepparents by the handsome prince. My life since meeting the Triathos had been a dream. Dreams and fairytales had something in common.

"Fairytales aren't real," I said. The last word came out a whisper as my voice broke and the tears came. We weren't going to win. We weren't going to live. We were two unprepared kids from the fiercest District, a target on our backs and not nearly enough to back it up.

Royce pushed back his chair and hugged me. "Don't say that," he said. "We can make it."

I turned my head like I was looking up at him, but instead I kissed him. We had to wake up soon, and I wanted to get at least that far in the story.

"I love you," I said, while I could.

"I love you, too," Royce said, reverent and suddenly uncertain. Some fairytales end at that moment. I wished ours could.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

Cormac and I sat beside each other at a table, along with Pray, Ava and one of the less ostentatious Capitolites I'd seen. Our tokens- my cast footprint and Cormac's teething ring- sat in the center of the table. In front of us was a handheld tablet.

"On this date, in the Capitol of Panem, Siobhan Harrigan and Cormac Abrams, parents of Sean Harrigan, do dictate and confirm their joint last will and testament," the Capitolite lawyer, Cravat, said, and the words appeared on the tablet. A joint will, we'd been informed, was a rarely-exercised but still legal document providing for a child in the case that both parents died at the same time. Should Cormac or I live, it would be void. "This document is witnessed by Pray Jager and Avariella Hanson."

"I, Siobhan Harrigan, confirm this testament," I said, providing the voice record that would accompany my signature and the end of the process. Cormac did the same.

"In the event that the mother and father of Sean Harrigan die within a month of each other, custody of the child will transfer to Claire Bismuth," I started. Once Cormac and I were in the Arena, Pray had the job of contacting Claire and obtaining her spoken and written agreement, which wouldn't be a problem.

"The full estates of both Siobhan Harrigan and Cormac Abrams will transfer to Claire Bismuth, for the care and keeping of Sean, as well as her own expenses," Cormac said. Cravat added some legalese that communicated exactly what percentage was solely in trust for Sean and what could be used to support Claire in her new responsibilities.

In less than an hour, it was done. Our son was provided for, and a burden was off our chests. Leaving money for Sean wasn't nearly the same as staying alive for him, but this would let us focus on survival with less anxiety.

"You think of everything," I said to Cormac when we were alone, taking his hand. I'd been caught up in strategies and thinking ahead to the best case scenario. It was Cormac who thought of the most vulnerable member of our family, and arranged for his safety in the worst case scenario. Again I saw his selfless, caring nature, and I wished I had looked closer when we first dated.

"Now let's make sure it never takes effect," he said.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male

 _Dear Sean,_

 _If you're reading this, I didn't make it. Hopefully your mom did. Just for the sake of the letters, I'm going to assume she didn't. That way I can focus on you. I love you, son. I know that's hard to believe, since I left you. I shouldn't have. My best decision was making you, and my very worst was leaving you. I'm so, so sorry I won't see all your firsts and everything I'm going to miss…_

 _Dear Sean,_

 _It's your first day of school! I know you're going to do so well. You're going to be a smart boy, like your mother. Between you and me, probably a bit smarter ;) Make lots of new friends! Talk to the quiet and shy kids sometimes, in case they want to play. Study hard, but don't feel like a failure if things are hard. Everyone is good at different things. You'll find your spot..._

 _Dear Sean,_

 _It's been ten years since I left you. If it's possible, I'm even sorrier. I hope you found someone to teach you to play catch and how to spit off balconies and how to impress a lady. If not, I bet you figured it out on your own. You're a bright kid. And a very special kid. I'm so proud of you…_

 _Dear Sean,_

 _A little birdy told me you have your first girlfriend! Some people try to say girls are mysterious. They're just being dumb. Girls are people just like us. Here's how to make it last. First, treat her like a normal person. Second, listen and don't just wait to talk. Third, put her first. If she loves you, she'll do the same, and you'll both even out! For your first kiss, don't go all out. Just do a little one and let the big ones come later…_

 _Dear Sean,_

 _Well, you made it. Eighteen years old. You're a man. You got as far as I ever did, and I think you'll make it a lot farther. It's strange to think I was the same age as you when I wrote this. I do hope you're a lot smarter than me. I can't tell you how proud I am of you. You have an entire life ahead of you, and I wish I could see all you'll make with it. I'm hardly one to talk, since I have five months of experience, but here's what I think every man should know..._

 _Dear Sean,_

 _I knew this day would come. Of course some fine lady (guy?) would put a ring on that! I can't be there when you walk down the aisle with her, but I'm there in spirit. Like one of those blue ghosts from the old movies. You're every bit the man I hoped you would be. I see you didn't make my mistake and volunteer. You better not have, since every single letter I wrote mentioned that! Wherever you go from here, just make sure it makes you happy. Tell your wife I'm happy to have a new daughter and I'm sorry I can't meet her…_

* * *

Tuilelaith Gladstone- District Four female

While most of the Tributes were practicing one skill or another in the training room, I was honing a different set of skills.

"What's fashionable in the Capitol currently?" I asked Rouge. As we talked, I helped her organize the makeup room. Her assistants had left it a dreadful mess. It made me happy to put everything back where it belonged, all neat and arranged.

"The latest trend is ultraviolet," Blush said. "It's like violet, but _ultra."_

"But you can't see ultraviolet," I said.

"I certainly can! Look how bright it is!" Blush said. She swirled her hand over a counter, pulling up a holographic readout.

"Ultraviolet fashion," she said, and the screen blinked to a picture ofa model walking a runway. She was dressed in a bright grape-purple dress covered ina swirling mess of tubes filled with neon pigments in all shaded of violet.

 _That's… not ultraviolet,_ I thought, but I politely declined to say it. It also wasn't at all attractive or refined, which I also kept secret.

"What about a more… elegant palette?" I asked. "Maybe a soft rose and some gold?"

"Maybe for a _funeral,"_ Blush said. "Or gold body paint and a dress _made_ of roses."

The Capitol had not, so far, matched my expectations. I was raised to think it was the epicenter of refinement and sophistication- the cosmopolitan cultural hub of the nation. He aesthetic I saw more closely matched a party clown.

 _I'm going to have to play the part,_ I grimly girded my loins. I imagined myself with streamers and sparklers woven in my hair, wearing a dress made entirely of multicolored crystals that clashed and assaulted the eye. I expected to endure pain and danger, but oh, the indignity…

"Here in the Capitol, we're all about you doing you," Blush said. "If you have a different style, go for it!"

 _I most certainly do,_ I thought. Maybe she was right. I didn't need to lower myself to the Capitol. I would raise the Capitol to me. For my interview, there would be something a little different. I'd show them style.

* * *

 **No Faust because he's not in the Career alliance.**

 **I must respond to the guest who called these chapters formula, with the response that immediately came to mind: Ravioli ravioli give me the formuouli**


	19. Wow Such Big Very Alliance

**I know I shouldn't bait the trolls but it entertains me.**

 **I shall make sh*t fanfictions to the end. I shall make sh*t fanfictions in France, I shall make sh*t fanfictions on the seas and oceans, I shall make sh*t fanfictions with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, I shall make sh*t fanfictions on our island, whatever the cost may be. I shall make sh*t fanfictions on the beaches, I shall make sh*t fanfictions on the landing grounds, I shall make sh*t fanfictions in the fields and in the streets, I shall make sh*t fanfictions in the hills; I shall never surrender**

* * *

Faust Xantina- District Four male

"So, your biggest competition in the Career alliance will be Siobhan," Jonah said, as we pored over the spreadsheets and charts hovering on the holoscreen over the table we were sitting on either side of. "But- and don't tell Careen I said this- do _not_ underestimate Tuilelaith. I don't trust her, and I don't think you do, either."

I thought ahead, to the Arena. Me sitting around a fire with the Careers. Me working side by side with Tilly but never with my back to her. Hunting with them, sleeping beside them, waking up with them…

I wasn't looking forward to it.

They weren't what I'd hoped for. They weren't _bad_ Careers, just not what I wanted. I didn't know what I wanted, now that I thought about it. Maybe I'd been idealistic and thought we'd be working together, or that they'd at least be vile enough that it would be easy to kill them.

"Actually…" I started. Jonah looked up curiously.

 _No, that's stupid._ I didn't even want to keep going. It was so stupid.

"I was thinking maybe I wanted to ally with someone else," I said. I regretted it immediately. Jonah said to ally with the Careers. If I was disagreeing with him, I was wrong. Who was I to think I knew better.

"Why not?" Jonah asked, but he didn't sound like he thought it was stupid.

"Just… I don't know, worrying about them betraying me and stuff," I said.

"Bull. Come on, what is it? I won't get mad," Jonah said.

"It's the baby," I muttered, looking down at the table in shame.

"Oh…" Jonah said. "I get it."

I knew how stupid and emotional it was. Cormac and Siobhan signed up for this. It was no one's fault but their own what happened. But still, it didn't sit right with me, leaving a baby an orphan. And if I was in the pack… packs break up. I wasn't soft enough not to put myself first if it happened, but I was soft enough to run away and hope they died before we met.

"It's stupid, right?" I asked.

Jonah shrugged. "Don't join the pack if it's going to hurt your chances. If you're hesitant, this is the right thing to do."

 _Right?_ I smiled slightly and looked up. _I should give myself more credit._

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

I was at the daggers station when I noticed someone coming closer. When I saw it was Faust, I shrank away. Careers were bad news.

"It's okay," he said, holding his hands out flat. "What you up to?"

"Trying daggers," I said, suspicious but not scared anymore. "Not very well, though." Maybe it was dumb to look weak in front of a Career, but it seemed worse to look strong.

"Oh, cool," he said. "Hey, this is kind of weird, but are you looking for allies?"

"What, you?" I asked. "Why would you want to ally with me?" _Aren't you joining the pack?_

"I know, you thought I was joining the pack. Look, I'm gonna be honest with you. The pair from Two… they have a kid. Like, together. I signed up to kill people and all, but I didn't sign up to make no kid an orphan," Faust said.

"Oh," I said. I debated on whether I should tell him about Leslie. But Faust was big and strong, and he obviously knew I wasn't a threat. This offer was a big stroke of luck, and I guiltily declined to come clean.

"Yeah, let's ally," I said. "I was working on survival stuff and daggers, but if you're with me, I think my time is better spent on survival stuff," I said.

"Sounds good," Faust said. "I think we should get more allies. Is that cool?"

"We should ask Barnaby. He's nice and he cooks well," I said.

"You ask anyone you think would be good, and I'll go ask some other people. Then we can meet back up, okay? Just don't pick anyone dumb," Faust said.

I was aware of how funny it looked, a little homemaker from Three talking business with a hulking warrior from the sea. But sometimes weird things go together well. Like cottage cheese and apples.

* * *

Brocade Ristallo- District Eight male

There was more food on the table than I ever knew was in all the world. I saw the corpses of animals I had never seen alive, and fruits I'd never known about before this moment. Just the table itself must have cost more than my family would make in a year. It was solid marble, with a hammered gold top.

"Wow, there's even gold sprinkles," I said, looking at the thin flakes perched on top of an arrangement of truffles.

"That's real gold," Rhodius said in that squeaky voice of his. He sounded like a balloon animal, but a person. A balloon person.

 _They_ eat _gold here._ That was just… excessive. I could scrape the decoration off a plate of highbrow mushrooms and hock it for more money than I'd ever held at once. And in this place, they flushed it down the toilet.

I seemed to surprise Rhodius when I dug in. Maybe it was the huge bites, or the fact that I gobbled everything on one plate and went straight to another. I slowed down after the first two, taking more time to pick and choose the best-looking dishes. But I kept eating, expecting Rhodius to make a smart remark any second.

"You eat a lot," he said. _Okay, a_ dumb _remark._

"Right, I should save my appetite for the Arena," I snarked.

"You're not gonna eat much there!" Rhodius blared with his weird squinty-eyed pout expression.

"Okay, guess I should keep eating," I said.

By my estimation, I ate a whole turkey's worth of food before it finally didn't look appetizing anymore. I set down my fork and resisted the urge to lay my head on the table.

"I ate so much I can barely move," I said. "Which is the only reason I stopped eating". That, and I felt a little sick.

"Try this!" Rhodius said, holding up a thin glass of pink liquid.

"I don't think the problem to too much food is more food," I said.

Rhodius waved his hand and made a buzzing sound. He got up and started out of the room.

"Where you going?" I asked, wondering why he'd left so abruptly.

"NoooOOOOsy!" he said without turning.

 _Oh, the bathroom,_ I deduced. _He likes to drink in the bathroom? Ohh. Okay, that's just nasty._

* * *

Osiris Horatio- District Ten male

Tucked away in the long-range side of the bow station, where no one but Careers bothered to try hitting the targets, I was in a perfect position. I looked like I was concentrating hard on my training. What I was actually concentrating on was the large number of Tributes I could hear talking.

"Cormac and Siobhan have a kid."

 _That_ pricked up my ears quick. Not that they had a kid- everyone knew that- but who was saying it. It was Faust, talking to the girl from Three. He was having doubts about the Careers, it seemed. He was looking into alternative alliances. A formidable Careers, looking for trustworthy allies…

"Just don't pick anyone dumb."

After Faust and Lulu split up, I waited for her to wander by. Then I loosed an arrow at one of the middle targets, missing by a small amount.

"Nuts," I said, putting out a capable but approachable aura. Sure enough, she came over.

"Don't sweat it. You're really good with that," she said, pointing out the arrows embedded in the target.

"Eh, I guess," I said. "Sorry about your sister."

"You know about that?" Lulu asked, eyes widening.

"Word gets out," I shrugged. "Capitolites gossip."

"Do they ever," Lulu said, rolling her eyes. "Thanks."

Despite me engaging her personally, it seemed like she might not pursue things, so I made the move.

"I heard you might be looking for allies?" It wouldn't give me away. Acee had already put out feelers, stopping by to gauge Tillo's reaction and then hastily leave. Lulu might have ended up with Faust, but she'd wanted allies before that.

"I'm with Faust now," Lulu said. "I know, weird. But we're looking for more. He said not to pick anyone dumb. Are you dumb?"

"Sometimes," I said. "I'll try to look smart."

* * *

Thunderous Copper- District Twelve male

When Brocade and I both ended up on the observation deck at the same time, it was either say something or stand around in more and more awkward silence.

"Sucks about the Games, but I love the Capitol," I said.

"Honestly, me too," Brocade said. "I always wanted to see something like this."

"I always knew I wasn't made for the Districts. This is where I should be," I said.

"I guess everyone would pick it if they could. But I get you," Brocade said.

"If I hadn't gotten Reaped, I would have gotten here somehow," I said. "Now I guess I just have to win."

"Same here," Brocade said. "Hey, you seem like a pretty capable guy. You interested in joining an alliance?"

"Who's in it?" I asked.

"Me, Lulu, and Faust-" Brocade said.

" _Faust?"_ I asked.

"Yeah, I know, right? But he's in," Brocade said.

"Then yes, I'm very interested!" I said. We had a musclebound Career to keep the hunters off our backs. An angelic charity case caring for her afflicted sister. A smart guy who knew the way things really were. And me.

"You got a deal," I said, making it sound friendly and not overeager. I extended my hand and we shook.

"There's just one more person we need."

* * *

Penelope Ruto- District Twelve female

"Let me get this straight. You specifically want _me_ to join your alliance?"

"That's right," Thunderous said.

"Is it my top-notch combat skills, or my stunning good looks?" I asked. I might have been twelve years old, but I wasn't _that_ dumb.

Thunderous wanted sponsor bait. He wanted a cute lil' thing the rest of the alliance wouldn't have to watch out for and whose girly smiles and cute antics would make the Capitolites squeal. He'd charmingly interact with me, and when he wasn't watching one day and I got killed, he'd cry over my body and vow to get home for me.

Two could play at that game. He wanted sponsors, and I wanted protection. Even with my darker interests, I wasn't superhuman. I was still a very small and very fragile girl. It didn't matter if I was _willing_ to kill. I had to be _able_ to kill. What I needed was a bunch of buffers around me, sheltering me until the Careers took each other out. Then I'd slip out in the middle of the night, and it wouldn't matter if I made noise, because I'd leave a circle of cut throats behind me. No one would check if sweet little Penelope was moving around. She might be a little creepy, but she's just a girl.

"We just want a well-rounded group," Thunderous was saying. "We all have different skills."

"Really? I thought you were messing with me," I said, putting on my girly smile and my big wide eyes. "Of course I want to be allies!"

 _If Darryl had allies, would he have died?_ He certainly would have if he'd allied with Thunderous.

Thunderous knew I didn't suddenly have a change of heart. We saw through each other equally well. He knew I was playing dumb just like I knew he was a politician. What he probably didn't know was that I was also a killer. People can train themselves to see things they don't expect, but no one looks for the things they never even considered.

* * *

 **Heyyyy if I stop writing for like two weeks it's because I'm going overseas again for like two weeks.**


	20. ABC

Aspasia Sommer- District Ten female

"Hey, you're Lulu, right? I saw you working with the knives. I'm going have to steer clear in the Arena!" I said when I passed her in the hall.

She smiled. "Oh, it's not much."

"That's what you _want_ me to think," I teased. "But good luck. As long as it's not a Career, right?"

"Right. And you, too," she said.

The Arena was a paranoid, backstabbing place. No one wanted to be anywhere near anyone else, and with good reason. But at the Bloodbath, we'd all be together. Twenty-four terrified kids would be clustered together, each trying to kill before she got killed. It would be easy to see a mob of faceless targets and not people. That was why I talked to the others. I didn't expect to get as far as friendship, or even acquaintance. I just knew it only took a friendly look and a few words to stick in someone's memory. To Lulu, I was a person now, not just a nameless obstacle in her way. If we bumped into each other by surprise, she might back away cautiously and not immediately attack.

Great things are accomplished with collaboration. I couldn't save Ten on my own, but I could be part of a team that did. I couldn't win the Games on my own, but a team of sponsors, mentors, and one Tribute could. Even in the Arena, there were collaborations. There were formal alliances, and there were informal relationships. Any outlier would help just about any outlier against a Career, and sometimes Careers even gave a pass to someone they'd talked to just a little bit too much or become just a little too fond of.

Politics also involved strategy. I wasn't going out of my way to bump into just any Tribute. I was looking for the more dangerous ones, and skipping the ones I knew were too selfish or amoral to care who they killed.

I passed by Rachel at the improvised weapons station. I took a place nearby and slowly meandered closer while pretending to need the weapons near her.

"That's a cool necklace," I said when she was between weapons. "What is it?"

"This is a yin-yang," she said, holding up the symbol. "It means balance, like light and dark."

"Oh, I get it," I said, about the symbol's contrasting pattern.

Rachel was nice enough to show me the necklace but turned back to her weapon right away, so I knew she wasn't interested in talking more. I let her be and moved on.

 _That actually_ is _pretty cool._ I'd have to look up a yin-yang.

* * *

Barnaby Mercator- District Three male

Bubbles was a very good escort. She never made fun of me for having a Three accent, or for asking dumb questions about things like silverware. She taught me how to tie a tie, and she helped me practice what things to say if I met a Capitolite. Those were all very important things that would help me win the Games, and I always listened carefully.

 _I should do something to show how thankful I am,_ I thought. When I asked Gidget, she had one idea.

"Let's make cupcakes!"

The kitchen in the Capitol building was enormous. It was made to accommodate the crowds for the Parade, so most of the time, it was mostly empty. There was more than enough room for me and Gidget to take a corner without getting in the way. The only hard part was finding bowls and measuring cups that weren't industrial-sized.

"Bubbles likes raspberry champagne cupcakes," Gidget said, and she starting looking through cupboards and drawers.

I felt giddy at the thought of fancy flavors like that. Back home, my choices were a bottle of imitation vanilla flavoring or the discounted bananas that were about to go bad. I'd never even eaten a raspberry in my whole life.

While Gidget asked around for the ingredients, I started laying the equipment out. It's important to be organized when you're cooking. It makes less mess. Then the double doors swung open.

"What's up, squirts?" Acee asked. "You weren't in the lounge, so I thought I'd check here."

After that, the day got much more educational. I thought it would be just a little break, but it turned out to be fun _and_ useful.

"See, that's why you can't switch baking soda and powder," Acee said as her demonstration bowl fizzed over. "Baking soda is much higher in carbolic acid. Baking powder is just diluted baking soda. Now what gets _really_ cool is adding acid…"

* * *

Cedar Hedgeson- District Seven male

The Careers were clustered together in the plants section of the training room, and they were definitely up to no good. Careers didn't eat salad. They ate raw meat and kittens. They were all standing around Tuilelaith, and it wasn't hard to figure out what was going on. She was telling them which plants were poisonous, so they could all cover their weapons. For sure, she wasn't telling them the _best_ ones, but just a few were too many for me.

"Excuse me," I said, brushing past them. Immediately, Vera patted her pockets. She found nothing missing, but she still looked at me balefully.

"Oh, _excuse_ me," I said more fervently, pretending I'd just noticed that I'd bumped into the _Careers._

"You'd better check your pockets," Vera said to the others.

"What, because I'm _black?"_ I said, and they started to smile and laugh a little. Panem hadn't dealt with that in hundreds of years. It was nothing but a half-forgotten joke to think of dumb stuff like that.

"And if I _was_ a thief, that doesn't make me _suicidal,"_ I added. "I'd steal from a Capitolite."

"And they'd deserve it, too," Cormac said, elbowing Siobhan.

"Stay out of trouble. And don't let us catch you again," Siobhan said. The Careers laughed, half at the joke and half at the reality.

Once I was out of sight, I pulled the necklace from my pocket. _Should have checked your pockets,_ I crowed silently. The locket was old and dull, but it was the thought that counted. I'd swiped a Career's token. While I would definitely get it back to Tuilelaith before it was missed, I would always know that I got her good and she would never even know.

 _Who's the lucky man?_ I thought as I opened the locket. Who was the guy who thought pickle-faced Tuilelaith was a sexy thing?

 _Oh, it's just her sister._ The glaring, frowning battleaxe could only be Tuilelaith's kin. _She's not even pretty,_ I thought with disappointment.

Getting it back was easy enough. I got a long sheet of paper and slid it under the door to the Four lounge with the necklace on it, crossing my fingers that it was as empty as it sounded. Then I jiggled the paper until the weight came off. She'd find it on the floor and assume it fell out of her pocket.

I thought about doing something unspeakable to the locket as an outliers' revenge, but decided against it. However hilarious it would be to do that to someone as prim as Tuilelaith, her sister didn't do anything to deserve it. For all I knew, she might be a very nice lady. She was just a pickle face.

* * *

 **There were too many D's and I was lazy. On rare occasions, too much D can be a problem.**


	21. Delightful, Delicious, Delovely

Demi Johal- District Six female

The Games building had a force field all around it, all but the first three floors. I already knew the top floor did, since that kid killed himself, but I hadn't been sure about the others. So I tossed a brass teapot out from every story, until it finally sailed down and smashed from the third floor. Guess the Gamemakers thought if you died falling from the third floor, it was Darwin at work.

Jumping from the top floor wasn't as fun as it sounded in my head. The field was strong enough that I could feel it humming as soon as I stood on the ledge. It pushed me back fast enough that my feet didn't even have time to sink.

 _Wonder what would happen if I tossed something out._ I picked up a clod of broken-off cement from the edge of post and chucked it. The force field must have only gone out as far as a kid could jump, because the shard sailed out and then dropped. I jumped onto the ledge in time to see it bounce off the ground.

 _I need another teapot,_ I thought. I disappeared back into the building, coming back a minute later with a porcelain plate. I thought about throwing it off the front of the building, where the people milled about in the street, but I held myself back. I would have felt terrible if I decapitated some kid. So instead I took it to the back of the building, which faced a much narrower and worse-lit street.

 _How exactly does the field work?_ I wondered. I tossed the plate lightly, like a frisbee, with its front end angled down. It hit the forcefield and skipped off it, like a flying saucer. It skipped again, then reached the end and dropped.

I never was good at geometry. Experiments were so much more interesting than theory. I ran and pilfered a huge stack of plates, trying my best to look like an Avox. I threw them at all different angles, bouncing them every which. Once I got the hang of it, I aimed more carefully.

I squinted, lining up the shot perfectly. I flexed my arms in a few practice throws, then let fly. I threw the plate almost vertically, angled toward the wall of the building while standing on tiptoe above the field. The plate slowed as it hit the field, then boomeranged off with increased energy. It shot across the alleyway with far more force than I could have generated, enough to hit the next building over. The glass window in an elegant skyscraper shattered, and chaos erupted. A man in a golden suit screamed and ran for the door, waving his arms over his head. Another man dropped a tablet and ran perversely toward the window. The fire alarms went off, and sprinklers drenched the room. A woman peered out from under a desk at me and I… I patted myself on the back and enjoyed my handiwork.

* * *

Dagny Sigurdson- District Eight female

"Where do they make the muttations?" I asked Rhodius.

"Ewww why would you want to go there?" he said.

"Where do they make the muttations?" I asked Tillo.

Tillo looked at me with distaste. "If it'll keep you busy…" she relented.

I knocked on the door to the muttation lab, which was silly, since it was made of glass and I could see everyone was in there. One of the scientists got up and opened the door.

"Are you lost?" he asked.

"No, I wanted to see how the muttations are made," I said.

Then it was the man's turn to look lost. Another scientist came up beside him and they conferred in whispers, still holding the door open.

"She wants to see how we make muttations."

"She's a Tribute."

"I know, right? Is that allowed?"

"We never get visitors."

"Let's show her next year's."

"Okay, you can come in," the first scientist said. I followed him into the room. I didn't know what I expected, but what I found was a bunch of people staring at holographic readouts and charts. One woman was squinting at a string of letters.

 _ATGCCGAATATAGGCCGATTACATT_

She peered for a minute, then erased the _GAA_ and replaced it with _AAG._

"This is where we're working on next year's mutts," the scientist who met me at the door said, leading me further into another room. "We're mostly done with this year's."

"You should make one that's furry. Furry things aren't as scary," I said, thinking of the children that would meet it next year.

"Why did you decide to make mutts?" I asked a few minutes later.

"I wanted to gene-splice animals and humans so we could have things like wings." By then, the scientist who met me had introduced himself as Sophocles. His face fell. "It looks like we won't be able to do that for a few more decades."

"I'm just interning so I can learn more," Cassiopeia, another scientist, said. "Then I'm going to start my own company engineering seeing-eye dogs that can read."

"Wow, that's so cool! But can't everyone in the Capitol see?" I asked.

"They're for the Districts. I'm going to give them away free," Cassiopeia said.

"You should give them monkey tails so they can pick things up," I said.

Cassiopeia smiled. "I like that," she said.

"Goodbye!" I waved at the door when I was about to leave.

Half a dozen scientists twisted around in their chairs, waving and smiling.

"Goodbye!"

"Don't be a stranger!"

"Come back sometime!"

If I lived, I think I would.

* * *

Daffodil Starshine- District Eleven female

I never felt more at peace then when I was doing archery. Usually I was thinking about a dozen things at once. I thought about schoolwork before I left the house, and on my way to school I felt guilty seeing the homeless kids watching me with hungry eyes, wishing they could learn and get a better life for themselves. I thought about boys I thought were cute and chores I had to get done, and what I was doing with my life.

When I pulled back a bowstring, all of that went away. I was focused on the tension in my muscles and the control in my fingers. My eyes were riveted on the center of the target, and my breath was slow and even. The only thought I had, always present but always in the background, was the constant alertness in case anyone wandered into the line of fire.

In school, we used dull suction-cup arrows. Making a real arrow would have meant permanent ejection from the team at absolute best. Far more likely, it would mean execution. No one had ever tried it, as far as I knew, not even the rowdy little kids who thought they were smarter than anyone.

My fingers shook after the arrow was released, and I almost missed the shot. Archery used to be zen-like for me, but the Capitol was destroying everything beautiful about it. It was a faceless target before me, but I could only see a child looking back at me, pain on its face as it felt life leaking away and saw its killer. I hadn't hesitated to volunteer for Violet. It was just the right thing to do, and anyone could have done it. But I felt almost as deeply for the other lives I was going to take if I won. I knew my skills. Anyone I aimed at would at the least be wounded, and wounds in the Arena meant death. I almost wished I was a clueless twelve-year-old who would die quickly in the Bloodbath, probably quickly, at the hands of a Career who didn't need to exert dominance over a child.

I looked at the cluster of arrows in the center of the target. In all my life, I had never thought things would turn out like this. I envisioned myself as a schoolteacher, or a foster mom, or even a civil rights lawyer in my more fanciful moments. I'd wanted to make people's lives better, not destroy them. I never should have taken up archery. I should have just played soccer.

* * *

 **Updates will be paused for a few days as I go overseas again! Once I get back I can tell everyone about it. It's not super secret or anything, that's just common practice.**


	22. Half the Leftovers

**I'm back from Puerto Rico! I had a great time. It was WAY better than Latvia. I got to go out and see the country and we were doing health care, so everyone benefited. I'm even going to sort of out myself (since I just turned 25 and pretty much aged out of internet creep range) and tell you that if you go to delta victor island delta sierra hotel umbrella bravo period net and search "IRT Puerto Rico 2019", some of those videos and photos are mine!**

* * *

Edison Westbrook- District Five male

The knife was for me. Knives were small, light, easy to use and carry, and were likely to be common in the Arena, as far as weapons went. A lot of the things scattered around the Cornucopia for survival in general could be used as knives: hatchets, some firestarters, arrows, actual knives… sharp, stabby things are pretty widespread.

And if I couldn't find a knife, maybe I could steal one. I wasn't as bold as some Tributes I'd seen who lived for weeks by snitching supplies from the Careers, but a single knife was doable. A big, strong Career didn't need a little penknife. They wouldn't even notice it was gone, as long as I didn't get greedy.

There was something else I liked about knives. Shooting someone with an arrow is clean and easy. You don't even have to see the person's face. A sword or axe provides at least some distance, both physically and emotionally. With a knife, you have to be right up next to the person you're killing. You had to be inches away, and that meant _your_ death was also inches away. Most people didn't like that, at least not as a first resort. Most people didn't start a knife fight unless they really had to.

"The winner of a knife fight bleeds out in the ambulance instead of the street," the sparring instructor told me. Knife fighting was a dirty, perilous business. If there was a way out, my opponent would disengage instead of going in. That would save me, a yahoo from Five with no combat experience, from a fight in the first place.

"One stab won't kill someone, unless you get lucky," the sparring partner said. "On the flip side, a single lucky hit can kill you fast. Go for the blood vessels to kill and the face to distract."

The thought of what a knife did to a face turned my stomach. I imagined a ruined cheek surrounding inches of blood-covered metal, or a boy reeling back and screaming as he held his shattered nose together. That would distract someone, sure. It would give me time to run, unless I was the one getting knifed.

 _What does it even matter?_ As hard as I worked, a skill took years to master. And it seemed like knife fighting wasn't a skill so much as a massacre that can sometimes be pointed in a certain direction.

 _But you don't have to work to any set amount._ I only had to work harder than the others. There was no one else at the knife fighting station. They were all somewhere else, and I would have taken comfort in that if I hadn't known they were working on their own plans to kill me.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

My district partner was no one to trifle with. Demi was tough and street smart. It would be better for me to be on her good side than her bad.

"So, what did you do today?" I asked after training, when we were both eating dinner with Lancia and Otho.

"To be honest, I mostly threw plates at windows," Demi said with a smirk.

"That was you?" Lancia asked.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Otho said archly.

"That's pretty cool," I said. "I just tried throwing spears, but not much came of it. I should have done something like that."

"You most certainly should not have," Otho said.

"Felt pretty good giving one back to them, didn't it?" I asked later, when Lancia and Otho were buttering up potential sponsors.

"Yeah," Demi said.

"Six gets it pretty hard. It's good to see someone give them a taste," I said.

"What do you even know about that? You're rich. You're the kind of person that people like me vandalize," Demi said.

I picked my next words carefully, trying to reflect her opinion at the same time I backpedaled. "I'm only rich because the Capitol wanted someone to prove their benevolence. None of it's really ours. It's just a prettier cage."

"It _is_ all a cage, isn't it?" Demi said.

"Hey… I know we're not allies, but Six gotta have each other's backs, right? If I see you around in the Arena, maybe I'll wave," I said.

"I suppose you think I'm pretty heartless. I had friends before, you know," Demi said wistfully.

"I never really did. No one wanted to associate with the Capitol's trophy," I said.

"That's too bad. People always want to make enemies that aren't there… says the girl who hates anyone richer than her," Demi said.

"Well, I hope one of makes it. Bring it back home for Six and all that. Heal all the morphlings and give candy to all the children and make all the poor people rich. Stupid things like that," I said.

"Maybe someday it will be true," Demi said. "But I'm not holding my breath."

Demi seemed like a genuinely interesting person. If we'd met under different circumstances, I might have meant all I said. But as it was, we were all trying to kill each other. There wasn't any way around it, and the ones like me had to compensate for our lack of physical skills with our social skills. After all that, Demi was one less person out to get me. She might even trust me if she thought we were pitted against someone we both hated. That made her one person easier to stab in the back if I had to.

* * *

Mico Samson- District Eight male

"OMGEEEEEEE!" A Capitolite man screamed, whatever that meant. "Mico! Mico! Mico!"

I turned around and saw the sequin-wearing man, who was buried under so much makeup I didn't know what color he really was. He was shuffling down the hall in towering high heels that clacked like cat claws.

"OMG you're Mico Samson, right? The Tribute from Eight? Can I take a picture with you?" the man asked, holding up a handheld tablet.

"What's it worth to you?" I asked.

The man stopped abruptly, obviously taken by surprise. "Uh… I can sponsor you," he said.

"What will you sponsor me?" I asked.

"Some food?" the man asked, cocking his head like he had no idea what a person needed to survive and was making his best guess.

"No deal. I want something different," I said.

"Oh… I guess you're kind of my type," the man said. He was backing away now, holding his arms closer to his body and not talking nearly as loudly.

"You got someone back home?" I asked, smiling.

The man nervously reflected my smile. "I got a girlfriend," he said.

"Slap her," I said.

"What?" the man asked, his gold-painted eyes going round.

"Slap her. You want a souvenir of the moment you met a celebrity? We'll take the picture, and when you go home tonight, pull her in close and slap her right across her pretty face," I said.

"Why would you want that?" the man asked, his voice trembling.

"That's not important. What's important is whether you'll do it," I said. "I'll make it worth your while. I won't take pictures with any other Capitolites. You'll be an _exclusive."_

The man hesitated. "How hard do I have to slap her?"

"I can't imagine a guy like you hits very hard. And sure she'll be mad, but right after, you can explain. You can buy her flowers or something. A moment's inconvenience for the keepsake of a lifetime. Do the math," I said.

The man's face twitched as he considered it.

"Tick, tock. This is a limited time offer," I said.

The man looked around, like we were transferring morphling. He awkwardly side-hugged me and snapped the picture.

"See you around," I said, and I left.

He probably wouldn't do it. In his deliberations, surely he realized he could just lie. But what made it worthwhile was that it wasn't his first thought. He considered it. He debated whether or not he was willing to slap his girlfriend. He would be debating it for a long time, whether or not he ever did it. _Would_ he have? If he couldn't have lied? I couldn't save myself from the Arena, but it pleased me to know I could push someone that far. That guy would remember me for a long time.

* * *

Rachel Larson- District Five female

There was a strange sort of acrobatics largely isolated to Five and Six. It was partly cultural, partly pragmatic, and entirely geographical. We didn't have trees in the city, but we were still very much three-dimensional. Country folks thought we missed out on climbing trees, but we climbed so much higher than they ever would. Cities were inherently vertical, from fire escape ladders to rooftops. I was no stranger to heights, and I looked forward to climbing high in the Arena.

I'd already practiced street fighting and improvised weapons. I was taking something of a cooldown day, and so far I was loving the ropes course. I was used to hard things like metal ladders, and climbing a rope turned out to be very different and far more precarious. It was strange feeling the ropes shift and sway instead of staying solid. I had to move more slowly, even though I told myself I wasn't.

High above the training room, I lay on my stomach on arachel net of rope looking down at the other Tributes. _Oh look, the Careers,_ I thought. _Bet I could spit on them._

Hilarious as that was, I wasn't that cocky. Maybe if I thought I could get away with it, but there was just a little too much chance they'd feel it and look up. Since I was the only one of the ropes course, it would be curtains for me.

 _Wonder how far it goes._ I crept farther, the ropes digging lightly into my legs as I shimmied forward. There were several tunnel-like structures that led back to the ground, but that wasn't where I wanted to go. I pulled myself along, sometimes stretched flat and sometimes shimmying over a single rope, until I reached the end.

 _Rachel, you conquered the ropes course._ As long as the Arena was made of rope, I would surely triumph. I lay on my stomach again, the last two ropes stretched across my hips and chest.

 _SNAP_

Anyone who has been in an airplane has imagined their seat randomly falling through, sending them straight down like a rock. That jarring, complete gravitational summons was exactly what I felt when the rope under me snapped, jackknifing me forward head first at the ground. At such an angle, I didn't have time to reach behind me for the other ropes. No one even had time to see me falling. Heads only turned at the sound I made when I stopped.

* * *

 **24th place: Rachel Larson- training accident**

 **Capitol medicine being super advanced and Rachel being literally right next to a bunch of medics, I think it's safe to say her head went totally splat when she hit. I don't generally do pre-Games deaths and this is a voting Games, but submitters can always choose to pull the plug at any time and Tinks wanted Rachel to go because he didn't think she belonged in a voting Games. That being the reason, she's welcome back another year. It can be exactly the same character and I'll retcon her from this story. So thanks Tinks for a cool character who we might see again.**


	23. The Last Three

Quinoa Farmer- District Nine female

There was the sound of a twig birds-nest being stepped on. It was so loud and unexpected I looked over. Almost as quickly, the screaming started.

Rachel was ruined. In the jumble of red blood sticking to white bone, I only knew it was her because of the short hair and the swell of her chest. She was mostly facedown, twisted slightly. _I thought brains were gray,_ I thought, until I realized the pinkness was more blood. Two instructors were running toward her, like there was any chance of putting that together again. Across the room, Randy was screaming and clinging to the camouflage instructor. Other Tributes were crying or just staring.

 _Just like that. She was so much stronger than me. Just like that._ By the time I looked up, Rachel's Games were over. I looked up and saw the snapped rope, still swaying. _She hit the ground and she was dead._ No struggle, no heroic effort, no last words. Rachel was gone.

I thought of something my mentor told me, and it hurt my pride, but now I saw she was right.

" _You think it's a scale. Living to dead, that if you make a mistake, you'll just fix it. You don't get it at all, child. It's flicking off a light. It's alive one second, dead the next,"_ Seeder had said.

Rachel was dead in front of me. I wasn't any stronger than Rachel, even if I liked to pretend size didn't matter. I could die as easily. I could die easier.

That evening, the Tributes were summoned to the Games Building's gala dining hall, where Capitolites held fancy parties talking about us. Titian stood at the head of the table, wearing a black suit.

"Good news, everyone: Rachel is dead!" he started. "Okay, that sounds bad, but what does it really mean? That's where the good news comes in. In light of this heartbreaking tragedy, a child taken from us so far before her time, our dear President Snow has decided not to obtain a replacement. There will be twenty-three Tributes in the Arena this year. Better odds for all of you! I'm sure we'll all miss Rachel, but let us thank her for thus selfless sacrifice."

I couldn't sleep that night. The images of Rachel's head went away pretty quick, but I was left with a much harder reality to shake. I wasn't as strong as I thought. I thought I could beat anyone, but if I'd fallen from that rope, I would have died too. Seeder said that because she'd seen it. She knew better than me, and I should start listening to her. I could still win this, and beat all the others. I just needed to start looking before I leaped.

* * *

Randy Mill- District Nine male

"You can't be serious."

"No, really," I said.

"A 'sugar baby'," Daffodil said, saying each word carefully like they didn't actually go together like that in English.

"Exactly!" I said.

"And you get paid to be handsome?" Daffodil said.

"That's not _all_ I do," I said, and I tried to think of anything else I did. "I keep people company, and I… tell them their butts don't look big in pants, even though usually they really don't," I said.

"What happens when you disagree with them?" Daffodil asked.

"I never disagree with them," I said.

"Oh, you fake it?" Daffodil asked.

"No, I really never disagree with them," I said.

"What, you don't have any opinions?" Daffodil asked, smiling like that was silly.

"Uh… no, not really," I said after a minute.

"What are _you_ like? What do _you_ like and what do you want to do? If you had enough money and there were no rich ladies, what would you be like?" Daffodil asked.

"I never thought about it," I said, looking around wide-eyed at such a huge question I'd never considered.

"You must like people, at least. That's something," Daffodil said.

"I _do_ like people. I like having friends and being with them. If I did something else, I'd want to be with lots of people," I said.

"And you're good at making people happy," Daffodil said.

"That's true! I like it when my moms are happy. They're so lonely, and it's kind of sad they need to pay someone to be their friend. I wish they didn't need to hire me," I said.

"So what else do you like?" Daffodil asked.

I thought very hard, and I was proud when I came up with an answer. "I like pretty clothes and I like rabbits," I said.

"So you're a friendly guy who likes making people happy and rabbits. You sound like a cool guy to know. I'm glad I know the real you," Daffodil said.

"Thanks! I'm glad I know you too," I said.

It took me all day, but that night, I had a plan. If I won the Games, I would be rich and wouldn't need to be a sugar baby. I would stay friends with all my sugar moms because they were nice ladies and it would be mean to leave them as soon as I didn't need their money. I wouldn't need a job, but my talent would be helping people learn how to be better friends and be more likeable. Then everyone would have friends.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

The Capitol was an inventor's paradise. _Everything_ here was high-tech. Even the dumb stuff that shouldn't be high-tech was high-tech. Like the stairs. Instead of just walking up the stairs like normal people, Capitolites were so lazy they made the stairs was _for_ you. They used these neverending loops of stairs that tucked into themselves at the top and cycled back around. I was suspicious at first and made sure to jump the last step, because if your foot was on the step when it went in, it sure seemed like it would suck you down with it like a spaghetti noodle.

"How does this work?" I asked my escort Minerva, pointing to a television screen embedded into a wall that flashed three-dimensional advertisements at me.

"I don't know," she said.

"How does _this_ work?" I asked Minerva, about the food delivery chute in the wall of the Seven lounge.

"I don't know," she said.

 _I don't know, I don't know. How can someone live here and never even ask how all this stuff works?_

"Do you know how this works?" I asked, half seriously and half cheekily, about a sink.

"I think it's magnets," Minerva said.

 _I'll do this myself._

It wasn't easy even finding the control panel for the holographic computer system that could be projected out over the entire wall in the Seven lounge. I almost electrocuted myself poking around the little electrical doodad I found in the corner. At last, I managed to pry it up and found a bunch of wires and stuff.

 _This doesn't really help at all._ Maybe someone from Three would have known, but we didn't have much in the way of wires and circuits in Seven. Lightbulbs and stuff, but not much more. All the same, I plunged in.

 _Okay, I know some of these things._ The green things were chips. They sent information… somehow. Honestly, it always seemed like magic to me. Computers and stuff were made of basic stuff like rocks when you broke it down all the way. How did a rock send information to another rock miles away? It boggled me.

"What are you doing?" Minerva asked when she next entered the room, greeted by the sight of me surrounded by a pile of cords, microchips, and tech stuff.

"Trying to see how it works," I said.

"I… how _does_ it work?" she asked.

"I don't know," I admitted.

She took a seat next to me and picked up a green computer chip.

"You think it's magnets?"


	24. Private Session Reports

**I forgot to give Randy a shoutout because the twelve-year-olds all had a reason not to scream at Rachel dying but Randy very much would scream like a little child and was just what I needed.**

 _ **ITALICS**_ **are Harley breaking in and adding her opinions, when she's supposed to be Theodora's "secretary" after getting fired from being the interviewer for her fling with a Tribute. If you've been here all the time you know they've been together since way before that and this is just Harley goofing off with her girlfriend.**

* * *

CONFIDENTIAL

ATTN: TITIAN QIN

PRIVATE SESSION REPORTS

THEODORA HARP _AND HARLEQUIN MARCEAU_

* * *

DISTRICT ONE MALE: ROYCE TRIATHO

SKILLS ASSESSED: SWORDS, SHELTERS

Royce had the expected mastery of his weapon, though without the ferocity or the true genius of some of the more talented Careers of past years. He surprised us by also demonstrating a dugout sand shelter, showing his practicality and recognition of the elements.

STRENGTHS: Strong alliance with Vera, compelling story to sponsors, humility

WEAKNESSES: Feelings for Vera, resulting fracture with other Careers, lack of enthusiasm

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 12:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Wow, neither of the Ones were supposed to be here. Bet One is _pissed._

* * *

DISTRICT ONE FEMALE: VERA TRIATHO

SKILLS ASSESSED: AXES, CAMOUFLAGE, GAUNTLETS

Vera _has_ trained, but cannot rightly be called a Career Tribute. While she showed competency with the axes, she lacked the finesse brought about by passion and years of dedication. Her camouflage showed promise, especially if not examined extremely closely. Her best event was the gauntlets.

STRENGTHS: Strong alliance with Royce, lack of bravado

WEAKNESSES: Connection to Royce at the expense of other Careers, timidity, lack of either bloodthirstiness or extensive training.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: _Girl f*cked up._ While Vera's past is a sordid epic of grossly traumatic experiences, our psychologist noted that she has adjusted quite well. She has progressed to merely mild PTSD and feelings of inferiority.

ODDS: 18:1 SCORE: 7

NOTES: _Hot dang, this isn't even in the top 10 of worst things that happened to you._

* * *

DISTRICT TWO MALE: CORMAC ABRAMS

SKILLS ASSESSED: SWORDS, DAGGERS, CLIMBING

Cormac showed the usual swordsmanship. Far more impressive was his use of daggers to stab his way up the wall, showcasing remarkable upper body strength.

STRENGTHS: Strong alliance with Siobhan, reason to win, vast pool of sponsors, Career skills

WEAKNESSES: Empathy, connections to Siobhan over other allies

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 10:1 SCORE: 9

NOTES: I think we got the frontrunner.

* * *

DISTRICT TWO FEMALE: SIOBHAN HARRIGAN

SKILLS ASSESSED: ARCHERY, SPARRING, AGILITY

Siobhan showed grace and style in archery and successfully fended off an expert sparring partner. She showed more fatigue during the agility course, including taking a moment to haul herself over a high hurdle.

STRENGTHS: Strong alliance with Cormac, reason to win, well-rounded

WEAKNESSES: Lingering effects of pregnancy, not the first choice to volunteer, connection to Cormac may threaten other allies

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 14:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Wow, _third_ choice? Times are tough for the Career Districts.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE MALE: BARNABY MERCATOR

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SURVIVAL SKILLS

Barnaby came in very studiously and began various humble but useful skills. His weaving went well, but when he was unable to make a fire, he clearly became panicked and his increasingly hasty efforts went unrewarded.

SKILLS: Weaving

WEAKNESSES: Fire

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Barnaby's psychologist remarked that he was "too big for his britches"

ODDS: 39:1 SCORE: 3

NOTES: _Bloodbath, Bloodbath, look at this Bloodbathy loser._

* * *

DISTRICT THREE FEMALE: LULU CHILCOTT

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: EDIBLE PLANTS, DAGGER

Lulu knew her limitations. She identified a handful of plants and ignored the ones she didn't know. Her daggers skills consisted of basic strikes and then running from her partner. In short, Lulu showed the best of a small skill set.

STRENGTHS: Levelheaded, mature, survival skills, large alliance

WEAKNESSES: Size, emaciated physique and accompanying health problems from malnutrition, likely target at Bloodbath

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 23:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: Sometimes you just gotta make the best of what you have.

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR MALE: FAUST XANTINA

SKILLS ASSESSED: KUSARIGAMA, SHURIKEN

We were pleased to see some of the more exotic weapons on show. I don't know how a kusarigama is supposed to be used, but it sure seemed like he was doing it right. We especially enjoyed when the watermelon exploded when the shuriken hit it.

STRENGTHS: Unconventional but solid alliance, weaponry, presence

WEAKNESSES: Possible backlash from Careers for not allying

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 10:1 SCORE: 10

NOTES: Encore, encore!

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE: TUILELAITH GLADSTONE

SKILLS ASSESSED: POISON DARTS

Tuilelaith provided a very educational session, outlining various types of poison as she created them at the same time. She then used a simple blowgun to fire her poisons at mannequins, to deadly effect, were they not mannequins.

STRENGTHS: Solid alliance, solid weapon, solid plan

WEAKNESSES: Really weird name

ODDS: 12:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Too-le-layth? Tweel-layth? Tu-ee-la-eeth? Tool-e-laith?

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE MALE: EDISON WESTBROOK

SKILLS ASSESSED: SURVIVAL, KNIVES

Edison's survival skills were okay. He made a fire and sort of cobbled together a lean-to. His knife skills were subpar. He knew which side to point at the enemy, so he's got that going for him, which is nice.

STRENGTHS: Not really that much, tbh

WEAKNESSES: Not really that many specific weaknesses either. So balanced out I guess?

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 23:1 SCORE: 4

NOTES: Isn't he the guy that electrocuted an elephant? What a dick.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE: RACHEL LARSON

SKILLS ASSESSED: NONE

Rachel is dead. This is, if you look at it right, a stunning strength, since she cannot be killed.

STRENGTHS: Unkillable

WEAKNESSES: Dead

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: She had Dissociative Identity Disorder with a single alternate personality.

ODDS: In a new record, 0:0 SCOREL Sadly not a record: 0

Notes: I kind of feel bad about this one. It's not her fault we had a crappy rope.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX MALE: JULES MASERATI

SKILLS ASSESSED: RUNNING, DAGGER

Jules was okay with daggers. He was pretty good at running, though. He ran a sprint, which is definitely a plus for non-Careers.

STRENGTHS: Running, daggers, sponsor network from family business

WEAKNESSES: Not really that big, not really formidable

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1 SCORE: 6

OTHER: Jules has a family history of multiple sclerosis but shows no symptoms as yet.

NOTES: All the world will be your enemy, and they will kill you. But first they must catch you. _Woah, that was poetic. You make that up just like that?_ No, it's from some book I read.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX FEMALE: DEMI JOHAL

SKILLS ASSESSED: SPARRING

Demi sparred using both hand to hand and knives. She chose a partner within her skill set and fought aggressively but not suicidally. While her recklessness earned her some bruises and scrapes, she would not have died in the fight.

STRENGTHS: Boldness, aggression, competent fighter

WEAKNESSES: Sometimes overly bold, flashy, will attract Career attention

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 16:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: We totally know it was you who broke all those windows. We just thought it was funny and don't care about those jerks next door.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN MALE: MICO SAMSON

SKILLS ASSESSED: THROWING KNIVES, SPEAR

Mico was better than we expected. He seemed to have little form, but he kept hitting the targets. Whatever works, I guess.

STRENGTHS: Weapons, aggression, lack of moral reluctance

WEAKNESSES: Strong enough to be a Career target but not strong enough to fight them.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Mico's psychologist said that there doesn't seem to be any fitting diagnosis for him, but there is something deeply unsettling about Mico. It's close to sociopathy, but seems almost like a mix of that and a split personality. His diagnosis was "creepy as hell".

ODDS: 19:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Yeah that's correct. Creepy as hell. Blank eyes, like a doll…

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN FEMALE: LAUREL PINE

SKILLS ASSESSED: SPARRING

Laurel got her butt kicked. It wasn't even an expert sparring partner… however, we do admire her spirit. It was especially funny when she guffawed and a little trickle of blood came out of her mouth. She lost in body, but not in spirit.

STRENGTHS: Permanent positive mental attitude, persistence

WEAKNESSES: Fighting, winning, weapons, martial arts…

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1 SCORE: 6

NOTES: That was so much better than Mico. Man, I hope if Seven takes it, it's her.

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT MALE: BROCADE RISTALLO

SKILLS ASSESSED: RAPIER, PLANTS

Brocade was okay with the rapier. No real technique or talent, but like, it's a pointy stick. Point and stick. He was also okay with the plants, with an equal number of right and wrong answers. So like 50/50 he'll get fat or turn purple and die.

STRENGTHS: Chance, large alliance

WEAKNESSES: Never rises above mediocre

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 27:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: _Not gonna lie I don't even remember that guy._

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE: DAGNY SIGURDSON

SKILLS ASSESSED: SHELTER, PLANTS

Dagny did really well on the plants. She especially knew about the flowers. Her shelter was okay, but took too long and too much material. She'd probably freeze or something.

STRENGTHS: Plants, not a threat, same name as the Swan Lake prince, I think

WEAKNESSES: Shelters, elements, Careers

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 31:1 SCORE: 3

NOTES: No wait that was Siegfried. I knew it was a stupid name.

* * *

DISTRICT NINE MALE: RANDY MILL

SKILLS ASSESSED: FIGHTING

Randy fought the partners very sexily. He raised his fists most becomingly and hunkily punched the sparring partner. He raised a long sexy leg and kicked his assailant. His face moved most alluringly as he furiously defended himself.

STRENGTHS: Really really really ridiculously good looking

WEAKNESSES: None he's a precious snowflake

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: The IQ tests are wrong or something because they said he was far below average.

ODDS: 33:1 SCORE: 4

NOTES: _Did you write a session report or a romance novel?_

* * *

DISTRICT NINE FEMALE: QUINOA FARMER  
SKILLS ASSESSED: SCYTHE, THROWING KNIVES, PLANTS

Quinoa was unexpectedly passionate. She was throwing knives and gutting dummies like no one's business. There was stuffing everywhere, dudes. It was a mannequin massacre. She only did a handful of plants, but like how many plants can you eat? Like three?

STRENGTHS: Enthusiasm, wide range of weapons, food

WEAKNESSES: Not really expert in any of the weapons, small size and young age

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 21:1 SCORE: 6

NOTES: If I was a mannequin I'd be running for it. _But if you were a mannequin you couldn't run._ A _runway_ mannequin, duh.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN MALE: OSIRIS HORATIO

SKILLS ASSESSED: ARCHERY

Osiris was very good with the bow, since he's a naughty boy and has been illegally hunting. He made every shot and they were all in fatal areas.

STRENGTHS: Archery, large alliance

WEAKNESSES: Prone to panic and frustration

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 19:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: _See, this one's way handsomer than Randy._ Nu-uh.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN FEMALE: ASPASIA SOMMERS

SKILLS ASSESSED: SURVIVAL SKILLS, KNIVES  
Aspasia did her homework. She's been talking with the instructors and mentors a lot and made a specific plan to show her most marketable skills. She showed some mundane but useful stuff like fire making, then showed some also simple but practical sleight of hand knife moves.

STRENGTHS: Marketing, knows how to play the game, alliance

WEAKNESSES: Not really a big time fighter

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1 SCORE: 6

NOTES: That's like using the Capitol against itself. I like it.

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE: CEDAR HEDGESON

SKILLS ASSESSED: SPARRING, THEFT

Cedar did better than expected with the sparring, employing an acrobatic style that wasn't afraid to back up when the partner was closing in. The bulk of his skill wasn't discovered until later, when the sparring partner went to check the time and saw his watch was missing.

STRENGTHS: Sneaky, doesn't overestimate himself

WEAKNESSES: Flashy, likely to piss off Careers

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 20:1 SCORE: 7

NOTES: OMG my bra is missing! JK but that's pretty cool

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN FEMALE: DAFFODIL STARSHINE

SKILLS ASSESSED: ARCHERY, PLANTS, KNIVES

Daffodil was really good with archery, as expected from her school days. She was also good with the plants, since Eleven people are all gardeny and stuff. She was pretty good with the knives, but not as good as the archery and plants.

STRENGTHS: Archery, edible plants, knives

WEAKNESSES: Definitely a Career target

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 16:1 SCORE: 9

NOTES: Some people are just good at everything.

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE MALE: THUNDEROUS COPPER

SKILLS ASSESSED: ARCHERY

I don't know why Thunderous chose archery. He showed neither talent nor skill, missing most of his shots. He blamed them on incorrectly placed targets.

STRENGTHS: Confidence, I guess. Strong alliance

WEAKNESSES: Archery, making excuses

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 48:1 SCORE: 2

NOTES: I'd make a witty pun, but it's been too long a night.

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE: PENELOPE RUTO

SKILLS ASSESSED: KNIVES

Penelope shouldn't be that good at knives. It's creepy from a little girl. She must have thought the same thing, from the obvious innocent disgust on her face.

STRENGTHS: Knives, strong alliance

WEAKNESSES: Young age, easy target for Careers

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Penelope's psychologist said she had the same symptoms as Mico and wondered what was in the District water.

ODDS: 33:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: What a thing to say about a little girl. She's not anything like Mico.

* * *

SIGNED, THEODORA HARP AND HARLEQUIN MARCEAU

* * *

 **Another episode of Hungover Games commences LOL. Let's see if it's obvious when I started drinking the rum and when I actually got intoxicated.**


	25. Reactions

**Just a little short chapter so I can tell everyone it's VOTING TIME! Since it's the Bloodbath, you get five life votes and five death votes. You can use as many or few as you want. Like in Fear Factor, gamesmanship is always encouraged. Conspire, rally, make alliances with other submitters, BETRAY other submitters... the farther you go, the juicier the story.**

* * *

ROYCE: _Ohhhh… One's gonna be really mad. They'll say we weren't the chosen volunteers and didn't even do well and this is why we_ have _chosen volunteers…_

VERA: _I didn't even get a Career score._

CORMAC: _Ha ha I got a better score than Siobhan. She's gonna be so mad._

SIOBHAN: _Cormac got a better score than me! I am so mad!_

BARNABY: _I shall just make this into a good thing. Some people show their very best skills and get inflated scores, and then they're just targets. This is smarter, really._

LULU: _Pretty much what I expected._

FAUST: _Best score! Best score! I'm the best! Me!_

TUILELAITH: _Ideal. High enough to satisfy my supporters, low enough to avoid notoriety._

EDISON: _Kind of sucks when your life requires skills that don't translate at all to the Arena. I'd totally win a Business Games._

RACHEL:

JULES: _I know a lot of Victors who got 6s. And a lot that got lower._

DEMI: _I did better than some Careers. That's right, better watch out._

MICO: _I'm in the top portion. With luck no one will mess with me right away._

LAUREL: _Oh yeah. Not a 1. Not a 2. A 3? Nay! Not a 4. Not a lowly 5. A sweet, stunning, sibilant, uh… squishy 6._

BROCADE: _Aw come on, couldn't you give me a 6? That's the difference between below average and just average. How embarrassing._

DAGNY: _Ay yi yi. Well at least they won't all come after me thinking I'm a threat._

RANDY: _4 is 8 less than 12. 12 is like an A+. So 4 is 8 less than an A+. An A+ is 100. 8 less than 100 is 92. I got a 92!_

QUINOA: _They only gave me that score because I'm young and they think I can't do it._

OSIRIS: _I should have held back. People will look at me now._

ASPASIA: _Right in the middle. Perfect._

CEDAR: _Why Cedar, where did you get that lovely watch? Straight from the Capitol, my lady. I think it really goes with my outfit._

DAFFODIL: _What? They definitely went easy on me. I'm not a 9. I'm just a normal girl._

THUNDEROUS: _Blasphemy. Trickery. Bias, garbage, imbecility!_

PENELOPE: _Not bad for a sweet little girl._

* * *

 **In case you didn't read the top note, time for Bloodbath votes! I started the voting here so I could tailor the next chapter more toward Tributes who will die. Some of the next characters to appear are dying and some are red herrings. Then again the next chapters might change the votes.**


	26. Interviews

**I decided to skip the last pre-Games POVs so I could get to the Bloodbath before the work week starts. Here's the interviews! Unless people write in to change votes, I assume they stay the same until people die. Also, I should probably explicitly state that you CAN vote for your own Tribute to live (or die. You can kill them at any time)**

* * *

Caesar Flickerman

"You don't have the usual story of a One Tribute," I said to Royce. "You _and_ Vera, in fact."

"I can't speak for her, but _I_ volunteered to keep her safe," Royce said. The crowd went "aww", and he smiled bashfully. "I know, it's cheesy. She's just already been through a lot. She should have someone who cares about her."

Vera's dress was lined with fiber optics, switching color from pink to purple. "It's pretty complicated why I'm here. It doesn't really matter anyway- I'm here. Me and Royce will try to keep each other safe. We really care about each other."

Siobhan looked positively queenly in her white gown. "People have underestimated me one too many times. I'm used to having to take what I want. I have, and I will again."

"We've had quite a run of fathers lately," I said to Cormac.

"I'm so glad you asked! I brought this picture," he said, taking a little photograph from his breast pocket. "This is my son Sean. He's pretty big for his age. The doctor said he's probably going to develop fast." The crown loved Cormac almost as much as he loved Sean.

"What an adorable little man," I said to Barnaby.

"I'm an adolescent," he said. "I suppose I'll be a man soon enough, if I live."

"Do you have anyone back home? A best friend, maybe?" I asked.

"I wish it was more than that," Barnaby blurted, and then looked embarrassed. He could tell I wanted him to go on, and did reluctantly. "He's in my class. We're not really together yet. Maybe I should have told him."

"I've never worn such a pretty dress," Lulu said of her mint-green ruffled outfit. "We're kind of poor. But we do our best."

Faust was dressed in a replica of Kazuo's Victor outfit, which seemed an odd choice for a boy from Four.

"I got a really high score, but honestly it's a lot of pressure," he said. "I hope I do as well as everyone thinks."

In the middle of a dignified and cordial discussion, Tuilelaith pulled a bag of cookies from a pocket in her dress.

"I baked these a few hours ago. Sharing food is so loving, don't you think?"

Edison fiddled with his shirt while he talked quickly.

"It was hard growing up in Five. My mother had tuberculosis, probably from the air, I guess. I had to quit school early to start working so we could pay for her medicine. That's just what families do, though. It's not special or anything."

Rachel declined to appear, which was better than the alternative.

"This is a first, isn't it?" Jules asked. "Nice to see you again!"

"Hey, Jules! I've been meaning to ask your mother for her souffle recipe," I said.

"I'll tell you when I get back," Jules joked, and the audience laughed.

"People like me have an advantage in the Games," Demi said. "I'm used to being hunted, and sneaking around. And I already know how to fight."

Mico looked at me really creepily. There was no other way to describe it. He stared dead-eyed straight at me, and it felt like he was looking at my soul. There were things in there I didn't want known, and I found excuses to look away.

Laurel did a funny little jg on her way to the chair, calling attention to her white tuxedo emblazoned with bulldogs.

"This one time I invented a perfect marshmallow roaster," she said. "It had three little prongs at the end that held the marshmallow in place so it didn't flip over when one side got heavy and then you got a half-raw half-golden mallow."

"Ah, Brocade. I feel like we barely know you," I said.

"That's probably for the best. It's not good to give too much away," he said.

"That's an acacia flower on your boutonniere," Dagny said. "It means concealed love or chaste love."

"Well in this case it's chaste love!" I said. "My wife wouldn't like the other one!"

"I suppose you have dozens of sponsors," I said to Randy.

"Yeah, I think Nassor mentioned that," he said. "He does the hard stuff. I just try to look pretty."

"I'm the youngest one here, but I'm definitely not the weakest," Quinoa said. "I got a higher score than lots of people, and sometimes the young ones surprise you, like Hades."

"I hear you're quite the listener," I said to Osiris.

"You hear some pretty interesting things," he said with secretive eyes. "For example, word is that Siobhan has been getting pretty cozy with Faust." _That_ caused quite the uproar.

"The water turns the wheel, but it is the architect that builds the dam," Aspasia said. "I was named after the woman who said that."

"Yeah, sometimes I 'liberate' things, you know? Maybe a big fat guy has a watch and it's getting all stretched. It just fits better on my wrist," Cedar said.

"Very impressive score, young lady," I said to Daffodil.

She looked down. "People keep saying that. A lot of people have died with that score, and a lot of people have died with higher ones. A score is just a score."

"I'm really liking the Capitol. I could definitely get used to this," Thunderous said.

"We try," I said.

Penelope was a lovely little girl. I just wished her eyes didn't lag half a second behind her mouth It made her look like there were two people in there.

"There they are, folks! This year's brave young men and women fighting to win it all. We'll see them again soon, and may fortune favor them."


	27. Totally Tubular

Rhoda Hamilton- Head Stylist

 _An outfit with_ what _pattern?_

That was a nightmare waiting to happen. It was doable, but if anything went wrong, it would be tackier than crushed velvet. Of course it was flattering they came to me, but it was still a big undertaking. I needed every muse in the pantheon.

* * *

Blake Armani- District One mentor

Vera and Royce clung to each other, Vera's head pressed to his chest and Royce's hand on her hair.

"We'll stay together. It'll be okay," he said. It struck me then that Vera, like me, knew so much better about things rarely being okay.

* * *

Avariella Hanson- District Two mentor

Cormac and Siobhan sat with their backs to her tube, looking at the picture in his hand.

"Remember, one of us," Siobhan said.

"One of us," he agreed.

She held the other side of the picture, and it trembled in their grasp.

* * *

Gidget Ford- District Three mentor

I could hear Barnaby's panic. He was hyperventilating, and compulsively wiping his cheeks so it didn't look like he was crying. Lulu was saying comforting things and trying to soothe him, but I could see from her deerlike expression that she was just trying to grasp at normality by imitating what she did with Leslie.

* * *

Careen Ellis- District Four mentor

Tuilelaith tugged at her uniform, frowning at the way it clung to her. Arena outfits were usually tight-fitting, to avoid catching on things. This one was an average shirt and pants combo, with long sleeves but thin enough material to indicate a temperate Arena, or at least not a snowy one. It had a subdued but clear checkered pattern of green and dark blue, suggesting a forested or verdant Arena. And most clearly of all, Tuilelaith didn't like it.

* * *

Shane Donegal- District Four mentor

"Should I pick up the first weapon I see or should I sort through them? I don't want the others to get away," Faust fretted.

"Yes, that would be tragic," I said.

"In such close quarters it doesn't really matter. I can kill someone with just about anything. Just point and stab…"

* * *

Erwin Jacobs- District Five mentor

"Heh heh. I'll just run right out. I don't want to mess with the Careers. Ha ha I'll be so far away they won't even see me!" Edison's words came fast, without any spaces between, and his smile was tight and pointed. "I probably won't stop running until tomorrow. I'll definitely be safe. I definitely won't die…"

* * *

Lancia Audren- District Six mentor

"It'll be pretty sick in there, I guess," Demi said, wearing her cocky, "I don't care" face. She was wearing it very hard, so hard it was obvious how deliberate it was.

"I've heard so many stories about this. None of them said how scary it was," Jules said.

* * *

Loki Saberhagen- District Seven mentor

"Hey, Mr. Saberhagen?" Laurel asked timidly. "I know everyone says you're really scary and a ghoul and a monster, but I think they're exaggerating."

"Wow. Thanks, Laurel," I said.

"I've seen worse," Mico said, which didn't help at all.

* * *

Tillo Peters- District Eight mentor

"To die will be an awfully big adventure," Dagny whispered with shining eyes.

"I'm with Bilbo. Adventures are not for me," Brocade said. His arms folded as he glared at the tube.

* * *

Nassor Doyle- District Nine mentor

"Maybe I'll see one of you again," I said.

"You talking about the dumb guy or the little girl?" Randy asked.

 _Oh_ now _he gets smart._

* * *

Bambi Kirkland- District Ten mentor

Aspasia was studying her outfit, already trying to divine the Arena and the best strategy. Osiris was more interested in studying other Tributes, but he had no one to study but Aspasia.

"What do you think it is?" he asked.

"Maybe a castle? This looks like a tapestry," she said.

* * *

Hlenn Rambutan- District Eleven mentor

It always haunted me to see them go into the tubes. These were the last minutes- the ones right before they stopped living and started dying. Daffodil seemed to shimmer with the soul I couldn't see, but shone out of her.

* * *

Frankey Disney- District Eleven mentor

"Here. Have a watch," Cedar said, tossing me a gold pocketwatch.

"What do I do with this?" I asked.

"Tell time, I guess. I just don't want the Capitolite to get it back," Cedar said.

"This is stolen, isn't it," I said.

"We have a winner."

* * *

Nubu Sanders- District Twelve mentor

Thunderous made it a tiny bit easier on me. Even though I cared when any of them died, it was just a little easier when they were so hard to love. Penelope had been and still was a mystery. She looked like a little girl, but sometimes things moved behind her eyes, and I didn't like seeing them.


	28. Countdown

**Now I can wait for any last-minute vote changes and write the Bloodbath tomorrow. Looks pretty set who's dying but you never know. Tillo/Calvary and Blake/Volvo both came down to minutes. So for goodness sakes live your lives and all, but bear in mind how fast I write.**

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

The air was sweet and smelled of flowers and earth. It was cool as it swirled around me. It was so lovely, I forgot the aching tightness in my chest and the certainty that my own death was minutes away. I stood on my toes to see the Arena as soon as possible. It was everything I hoped for.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

The Arena was very pretty. There was a pale blue river that split around the Cornucopia, so the platforms were inside it. It had little rapids and I could see the bumps where the water went over rocks. A few trees were on the sides of the river. Far way, there was a really big grassy hill. Before that, there were foresty spots with mostly pine trees, but some leafy trees. It looked like a nice place to live, honestly.

 _59, 58, 57…_

* * *

Tuilelaith Gladstone- District Four female

The Cornucopia was pure white, and longer and more slender than usual. It was overflowing with supplies and weapons- mostly weapons, I noticed. This was such a mild Arena, weather gear and food wouldn't be as pressing. My eyes skimmed the supplies until I saw a briefcase-sized box with a familiar skull and crossbones symbol. I smiled.

 _51, 50, 49…_

* * *

Royce Triatho- District One male

Vera was six platforms away, Tuilelaith and Mico flanking her. We shouldn't have any trouble linking up and getting supplies. Then we could fight back-to-back, just in case any of our allies got ideas. They would eventually, of course. That was just the nature of the Games.

 _47, 46, 45…_

* * *

Daffodil Starshine- District Eleven female

There was a bow in the Cornucopia. It was sleek and silver and looked lightweight but strong. It was a longbow, just the kind I liked. But I felt ashamed even thinking about going for it. At school, a bow was for targets. Here, a bow was for killing. If I ran for that bow, it would be my first step with murder as my intent.

 _41, 40, 39…_

* * *

Edison Westbrook- District Five male

I didn't need the things in the Cornucopia. They would make life easier, but I could live without them. I would just need to work harder. I could get by with nothing, but there _was_ a hatchet pretty close to my platform, almost on the way out toward the forest. I could build a shelter, and start a fire, and so much more.

 _38, 37, 36…_

* * *

Cedar Hedgeson- District Seven male

I was right next to Barnaby. Talk about luck. Aspasia was four platforms away, but she wasn't unlucky either. Lulu and Penelope were on either side of her. We found each other's eyes and looked at the pine forest. It had cover and supplies. It was the obvious choice. Aspasia nodded, then looked pointedly at the bag near her feet. I pointed a finger at the wire saw near _my_ platform, and Barnaby indicated the sack of potatoes near his.

 _33, 32, 31…_

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

Quinoa was seven platforms away, looking at me with eyes wide with intensity and not fear. She kept peeking at the Cornucopia, and I kept making increasingly bizarre faces as I shook my head. I pointed with both hands close to my body like a T-rex toward the backpack that was a much safer distance from her. Me, I was just grabbing the container of salt by my feet. Weird, I know, but I had a reason.

 _27, 26, 25…_

* * *

Thunderous Copper- District Twelve male

Osiris and I were next to each other. Close enough that we could talk, and I'd never heard a rule against it.

"Let's go in. We can cover each other and get some weapons," I said.

"Got it," Osiris said.

 _20, 19 18…_

* * *

Demi Johal- District Six female

I wanted the knife.

It wasn't all the way into the Cornucopia. It was right at the edge, really, stuck at an angle into a table stacked with camping supplies. The blade was maybe six inches long, and it was iridescent blue and purple. I would look fly as _hell_ killing someone with that. It was dangerous running into the Bloodbath, but the whole Games was dangerous. There was no safe way to play this.

 _13, 12, 11…_

* * *

Barnaby Mercator- District Three male

 _I'm going to pass out. I'll pass out and fall off and blow up._

I forced my breath slower, closing my eyes and concentrating. Everyone was scared. It didn't make me weak. I just needed to push past it and act.

I had my plan. When the Games started, I would grab the potatoes and meet up with my allies in the forest. We would work from there.

 _9, 8, 7…_

* * *

Quinoa Farmer- District Nine female

Laurel didn't want me to run in. She was bugging her eyes at me and shaking her head fit to break her neck.

 _I can do it,_ I thought, my pride rankled by her doubt. I could make it. I was fast. No one was gunning for a little girl.

 _But_ will _I do it?_ Suppose someone _did_ notice me, and they wanted a quick kill for their body count. Was it worth risking my life for an armful of loot? But what if that loot was what kept us alive?

 _5, 4, 3, 2, 1..._


	29. Bloodbath, finally

**Funny story how I left you hanging for three days right at the Bloodbath...**

 **Obviously, that was not my intent. What happened was two days ago I straight up got hit by a car (I was in my car waiting at an intersection, so I was stationary, and the other guy turned from a crossroad and didn't see me in time. It was a very slow collision and I just have a big dent. But it took a while to get info and stuff). Then yesterday I had to go to bed at 7 because today I got up at 3 and filmed a bunch of Marines doing a day-long grueling training event. But TODAY I finally got to write! LOL sorry for the unintended suspense. Guess I should have left off at the Capitol last session!**

* * *

Thunderous Copper- District Twelve male

Osiris and I moved at the same time, merging toward each other as we advanced on the Cornucopia. Daffodil was also going for the bow, and she was a lot closer. _All right, I'll improvise,_ I thought. In such a melee, a short-range weapon might be more practical anyway.

Osiris and I kept our backs to each other as we hastily grabbed weapons from the table. I took a spiked mace. Osiris slung a quiver of arrows over his shoulder and grabbed a hunting knife, both to defend himself and probably to make a bow later.

"Let's go!" I yelled, and we ran for it. Most of our allies were headed for the forest, so we went that way. We were side-by-side as we fled. Osiris looked over his shoulder and at his expression, I looked, too. Siobhan was running after us, carrying a sword.

I looked again, and he was almost on us. I could hear Osiris' labored breath as we tried to sprint faster. Then there was a wet, deep pain in my leg. _I've been shot!_ I thought, and I looked for Daffodil's arrow. Instead, I saw Osiris' hunting knife. When I looked back one last time, I saw Siobhan's sword coming straight at my eye.

* * *

Daffodil Starshine- District Eleven female

 _I'm just going to use it to hunt._

This was a forested Arena. There would be things to shoot- things that weren't people. I kept repeating it as I picked up the almost weightless silver bow. I picked out an arrow from the quiver and held it by my side in case someone attacked me in the confines around the Cornucopia.

In all the chaos, it was hard to even tell what was going on. People seemed to blur as they ran every which way. Then Royce was in crystal focus, standing over Quinoa, his sword glittering against the horizon.

In archery, you have to fire before you think. I felt only the slightest pull from my fingers letting go, and the arrow was gone. Royce fell sideways, and Quinoa bolted away after looking at me with indiscriminate fear.

The cacophony of the Bloodbath was split by a furious shriek. I felt the impact before the cut of Vera's axe. I hit the ground hard on my stomach and was dead before I turned over, but not before I saw Quinoa slipping to safety.

* * *

Royce Triatho- District One male

I had my sword in hand. Vera and I were ready to go after our biggest threat: Faust. I ran out ahead of her when I spotted him trying to flank around and get to the weapons behind us.

I didn't even see Quinoa. We smashed into each other full speed as she tried to flee across the ring of platforms toward the big hill. I knocked her flat and she yelped in pain.

"Sorry, are you okay?" I asked. I was putting out a hand to help her up when the arrow found me. It was strange how I had enough time between it hitting my skin and my brain to realize that it came from behind me, and to hope that Vera was all right.

* * *

Edison Westbrook- District Five male

I darted in and grabbed the hatchet. I slipped on the grass, sliding a little past the hatchet. I pushed off the ground and ran back out toward the edge of the ring of platforms, toward the woods.

Behind me, there was a furious-sounding scream. Whoever it was, I wouldn't want to be who they were mad at. Besides that, there were less-violent screams and sounds of panic and terror. A throwing star flew past my head close enough for me to hear the him. I ducked, even though lowering my head wouldn't stop Faust from aiming at my back.

My foot came down awkwardly in a little dip in the ground. I fell forward, landing on my knees. I thought with horror of all the stories of people fleeing monsters and falling, and how they always broke their ankle, but mine were fine. I pushed off my knee to stand.

As sharp as the sword was, I guess it's just hard to stab through an entire person, even if you hit off to the side and between the ribs. The blow pushed me forward flat on my face, and the tip of the sword hadn't punched through me when Cormac pulled it back. As I rolled over, I saw the tiny bit of guilt as he looked at Siobhan, who nodded in support.

No one ever thinks they're going to be the Bloodbath. In each of the seconds before I died, life seemed to stretch out and seem more valuable. I wanted to grab it and hold it in place, but it slipped away from me.

* * *

Tuilelaith Gladstone- District Four female

Running was undignified. It was part of the Games and I would live with it, but I was aware of how unkempt I looked hauling toward the Cornucopia. I didn't have energy to notice how silly everyone else looked, at least, because I only had eyes for the case of poisons. A few others reached the Cornucopia ahead of me, but I was the only one going for that. Or maybe the others would take it just for practicality, but in any case, I was about to reach it first.

I bent a knee and reached out a hand for the case. As my arm was still extending, there was a flash of metal and a high-pitched whistle. Pressure turned to pain and I stared shocked at my hand lying in the grass, and the stump that was left. I looked up to see Faust about to swing again.

"Not today, Poisonteeth," he said. I could feel my heart beat along with the pulsing blood as I noted with bitter relief that he was aiming at my chest. A headless corpse would have been most unbecoming.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

As Vera kicked Daffodil, tears of frustration and grief on her face, I took the bow from the girl's limp hand. It was wet with Daffodil's blood, making the sleek metal slippery. It didn't affect my aim, though.

I held my arrows back for a moment, sweeping the area to find the best target. A surprising amount of threats were already taken out. I couldn't see Faust, so I looked for a secondary target as I guarded Cormac's blind spot.

Right after Cormac killed Edison, I found my mark. He was close by, and not running as fast as some of the others. I was skilled, but I wasn't proud enough to waste an arrow trying to show how difficult a shot I could make. I lined up and took my prey.

* * *

Barnaby Mercator- District Three male

The bag of potatoes slowed me down, but only a little. It was more awkward than it was heavy, since it wasn't that large a bag. Ahead of me, I could see the forest. The trees were leafy and close together. Just a few feet in, and the trunks and foliage would shield me.

When I reached the safety of the tree line, I looked back at the Cornucopia. The Careers were still fighting, both each other and anyone slow or foolish enough to still be there. I noticed three bodies lying stretched across the ground. I hadn't known there was so much blood in a person. The rings of red around them looked like shadows.

* * *

Mico Samson- District Seven male

I was going to see my mother soon. I watched the clouds roll by, my fingers curled around the arrow I'd pulled from my back. It lay across my chest now, and I fingered it absently.

The air grew cold around me. I felt lighter, and then weightless.

 _Mico,_ I heard my mother say.

"Mama?" I asked.

My body flashed hot, and something seemed to yank me down. Something angry and hateful was gripping me, trying to pull me down into the grass and beneath it. It screamed unspeakable thoughts in my head. But something else took hold of me, pulling the other way. The two forces fought for a moment. With a last blast of blackness, the weight left me. Warmth and peace flooded me as I drifted back upwards. My mother's face took shape above me, holding out her arms.

* * *

Vera Triatho- District One female

I kicked Daffodil's body, trying to put into it all my frothing anger and frustration at losing my first and best friend. Killing Daffodil wouldn't bring him back, and I hated her for cheating me even of that closure. I yanked the axe from her back and turned away. The Bloodbath wasn't going to stop for my feelings.

 _Killing Daffodil didn't bring Royce back. But it made me feel better for a second._ For that instant, I didn't hurt. I wanted that back. I would do anything for it.

I raised the axe and sprinted out of the Cornucopia, looking for anyone I could catch. The first person I saw was Faust. I ran at him from behind, bringing my axe back for a killing blow.

He must have heard the sound of my footsteps, because he turned before I struck. He put out an arm, hitting the handle of my axe and knocking the blow sideways. I curved around his arm and shoved the axe toward his side. With so little momentum, it wasn't a serious blow, but I was happy to see it still drew blood. He shoved me in the chest, knocking me back a step. As I stepped back, he hopped backwards. Before I started back at him, he swung his chain at my leg. When it wrapped around, he yanked, pulling my foot out from under me so I fell flat on my back. He brought up a knee and fell onto it, landing with all his weight on my throat. Bone and cartilage crumpled. I gasped, but no air came. Sharp bits dug into me as I clutched at my throat, dribbling blood from my mouth as I struggled for air.

It must have taken minutes for me to die. Faust fled as soon as he made the killing blow. The other Careers were busy hunting their own quarries, and didn't even notice me rolling on the ground. I struggled to my knees and started to crawl, I don't know towards what. My mouth gaped open and my fingers dug into it as I fell into panic and frenzy, trying to scoop air into my mouth and push it down my throat. When my limbs starte to go weak, I knew with desperate clarity that it was over. I crawled on my hands, then my elbows, and finally my face fell into the dirt. The grass tickled my tongue as I tried for the last time to breathe.

 _Royce. Royce, come help me. I need you again. I'll always need you…_

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three mentor

Penelope and I hid behind a tree a few feet into the woods, holding hands as we peeked out from behind it.

Brocade was the first to appear. I leaned out and waved, and he curved toward us. When he reached us, we moved back to a larger tree.

"Did you see any of the others?" I asked.

"Just Faust. He's okay, of course," Brocade said. He was holding a rolled-up plastic bag, which would go along with the backpack Penelope had grabbed.

"There's Osiris!" Penelope yelled. He was running toward the forest, but far off in another direction. "Hey! Osiris!" she yelled. He flinched, looked around wildly, then saw us and started over.

"Faust should be coming soon, I think. He'd already killed a couple of people," he said, adding a quiver of arrows to our loot.

A minute later, Faust appeared. He wasn't moving as fast, since he had far fewer people to be afraid of. His chain-and-sickle was strapped to a huge backpack that shielded him from Siobhan's arrows, hence the slow pace. He looked around and saw that almost everyone was there.

Everyone was silent as we waited. We strained our eyes at the distant Cornucopia, trying to see our one remaining ally.

"Did anyone see him?" I asked.

"No," Penelope and Brocade said almost at the same time.

"I didn't see him," Osiris said.

"I didn't _think_ he was one of them…" Faust said, and we didn't ask. Seconds dragged into minutes. The cannons started.

 _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven._ Seven Tributes dead, plus Rachel. No one wanted to say it.

"One of those was him, wasn't it?" Penelope asked. No one argued.

* * *

 **The deaths will seem a little jumbled since they mostly will occur by order of votes. While the POVs were written in the order that flowed best, the Tributes will take longer or shorter to bleed to death, etc, depending on their number of votes.**

 **23rd place: Royce Triatho- Shot by Daffodil**

 **I don't know why Royce was first. No one seemed to particularly hate him. I suspect it was mostly practicality and trying to remove a threat. Funny enough, his form said he didn't have it in him to kill. So I had to go the comedy of errors route and have him bump into Quinoa (who did NOT go for the Cornucopia, btw- she was just running across to get to Laurel and the hill). He was actually just trying to see if he was okay, but Daffodil went and jumped the gun. RIP Royce, who volunteered to be with his best friend and was a pretty good guy, both to her and in general. Thanks Monkeypower for an unconventional Career and the kind of friend we should all be for someone.**

 **I'll list the final votes for everyone for poops and giggles. Royce died from having -6 votes.**

 **22nd place: Daffodil Starshine- Axed by Vera**

 **Daffodil is another funny story. She was actually submitted as an ultimate Mary Sue. Her form was literally my "Mary Sue" form from Cordelia Weave's Writing Tips with a different name added. When I got that, it was honestly pretty impressive. I couldn't NOT use that. Her creator wanted to be anonymous because she (*cough* Americanpi) rightly feared that if people knew it was her, they'd smell a rat because she usually sends good Tributes. Her challenge was for me to write a Mary Sue well enough that people liked her. Well, she died second, but I think it was still successful. No one seemed to dislike her, they just voted for her because she was really strong and a definite threat. I took much joy in writing the saccharine ramblings of a wanna Saint Francis of Assisi who had no flaws and only ever thought about nice things. So thanks Americanpi for the Suest of Marys.**

 **Daffodil had -5 votes. She fluctuated more than Royce, vacillating between -3 to like -8 net votes.**

 **21st place: Edison Westbrook- Stabbed by Cormac**

 **I think people picked Edison because they had to vote for someone. No one seemed to hate him. I guess he got lost in the shuffle and no one particularly LIKED him, so he didn't get any life votes to cancel his death ones. Edison was practical and hardworking. He might have seemed dull to some people, but he was just living life steadily and day-by-day. Thanks ItsaCatsWorld for another down-to-earth, likeable normal guy.**

 **Edison had -4 votes. He went back and forth from slightly negative to positive, then took a nosedive at the end.**

 **20th place: Vera Triatho- Throat crushed by Faust**

 **Most people don't like non-volunteer Careers, so that probably did Vera and Royce in. She wasn't in this to kill, but her form noted that if she outlived Royce, she would go crazy. That she did, and Faust was just stronger. Vera had pretty much a terrible life, so at least it's not terrible anymore I guess. Can't have a terrible life if you're dead. It's nice she got to meet a guy like Royce. Thanks Annabanana for someone who had a terrible past but didn't whine about it all the time like a lot of characters.**

 **Vera was controversial. She got death votes right away, and at some points was far more negative than Royce. In the end she settled at -4**

 **19th place: Tuilelaith Gladstone- Axed by Faust**

 **Faust hadn't found his preferred weapons yet, since it was a way better image to have her hand get chopped off with an axe. I was going for the poetic angle, like "oh the irony she used her hands to poison people and then they were cut off!". Tuilelaith was voted for, I'm sure, because of the heavy danger of a poison user. That, along with her cold personality, meant her allies as well as outliers probably voted for her. Pity, because she would have done a lot of damage. That's the danger of submitting a good character to a voting Games. Thanks bulletproofreed for a character that got hindered by the format.**

 **Death votes starting pouring in for Tuilelaith immediately. She had like -9 at one point. At the end she got a sudden second wind, dying with only -3 net votes.**

 **18th place: Thunderous Copper- Stabbed by Siobhan**

 **It actually worked way better to have Faust do it, but I changed it upon remembering they were allies. Not that that stopped that no-good dirty-rotten pig-stealing Osiris. Thunderous was pretty obviously voted for because he was a jerk. Fair enough. He was sent with the knowledge he'd probably die quickly, so here we are. Thanks LordShiro for not being afraid to actually send a mean guy.**

 **Thunderous had -2 votes. On the bright side, one person did vote for him to live. On the sad side, that was his submitter.**

 **17th place: Mico Samson- Shot by Siobhan**

 **I suppose he got voted for because he was creepy and wouldn't have been a popular Victor. Mico is what happens when people send in Tributes that have to do with the occult. I went all-out expressing my great dislike of the type of things he did. It's not often your death scene is Heaven and Hell fighting for your soul. Through it all, though, he was a child, and therefore automatically goes to Heaven (the Bible actually doesn't say much on that subject but what it does say is very hopeful). Thanks Ace for Mico, who may have been hella creepy, but that's what happens when you accidentally get yourself haunted by a demon.**

 **Mico had -2 votes. The votes were separated enough that I set the threshold at anything negative, making a bigger Bloodbath because I'm so bad at having mine be tiny.**

 **Votes are open every chapter from now on. You don't have to write in if they stay the same from one chapter to the next, especially in chapters when no one dies. I assume votes stay the same unless someone obvious happens like a character kills your character or someone you voted for to live dies.**

 **It's FOUR life votes and four death votes now, since eight people are already gone!**

 **A few retcons and goofs:  
I retconned the outfit upon realizing how stupid I was not to have them wearing plaid kilts instead of plaid pants. Each of their kilts also comes with a plaid dark green tam o' shanter with a little green pompom.**

 **I had Barnaby mention allies when the ABC chapter was just three unrelated characters, not allies.**


	30. Red Sky at Night

Osiris Horatio- District Ten male

I wasn't sorry for what I did. I was sorry Thunderous died, but not for my part in it. I was trying to stay alive, like everyone else out here. We all wanted to be the last one standing, and that meant we wanted everyone else to die. That was human nature.

The sun was still high in the sky, and we were on the move. It would be suicide to stay close to the Cornucopia, or even to stop moving for long. The forest was the most obvious place to look, which was a tradeoff we made for access to supplies and cover.

Then again, the "Career pack" everyone dreaded was just Cormac and Siobhan now. Two Careers was a lot better than six. With Faust on our side and our superior numbers, they weren't actually likely to pick a fight with us.

"I think we're good," Faust said, echoing my thoughts. I knew it was a kilt, the noble garb of a proud people, but it was still hard not to smile every time I really looked at Herculean Faust in what seemed like a plaid schoolgirl skirt. It stretched tight on his legs as he opened his pack.

"What's this?" Penelope asked, pulling out a folded-up gray sheet.

 _PULL,_ read a little tab.

 _Maybe don't pull something the Capitol says to pull,_ I thought, but too late. Penelope pulled the tab. There was a faint _pop,_ and the sheet rapidly filled with air, gaining size and definition until I could tell it looked like a big boulder, like the couple of other rocks between the trees.

"A blow-up rock?" Faust wondered.

"A _shelter!"_ Penelope said, locating a camouflaged zipper. She unzipped it to reveal the inflated portion was a shell around an interior space big enough to fit all of us if we _really_ squeezed and three of us comfortably lying down.

"It hardened," Lulu said, knocking a fist against the outside. I tapped it. It felt like rock.

"Wow, this is what the privileged Tributes get!" Brocade said. "Like, the ones that can afford to take stuff at the Cornucopia."

He wasn't wrong. We had the shelter, plus tons of other loot from Faust's bag and the other stuff the rest of us grabbed. Even in the Arena, privilege played a part.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

Tuilelaith, Royce and Vera were all dead in the Bloodbath. Royce and Vera might have been predicted, but Tuilelaith was a shock. I'd never trusted her, or anyone that used poisons. She was a clever one. If Faust hadn't done it, I would have killed her before long. Or the other way around.

Despite the elimination of our biggest threat, this still wasn't good news for me and Cormac. Faust and his alliance were long gone, but that might not last long. We were significantly outnumbered, and Faust was as much a Career as we were. They'd run for the time being, but if they figured out the real picture, they'd be back, and we wouldn't be the ones attacking. They could very possibly take the Cornucopia, leaving me and Cormac cut off from supplies, maybe wounded. Or maybe dead.

"We need to take care of Faust's alliance," Cormac said, in a tone that made it clear he'd already been doing a lot of thinking. That much was evident just because he spoke up- Cormac didn't like to advertise his thoughts before he already had a solid plan.

"Let's wait until dark, track them down, and kill Faust in his sleep. They'll have guard shifts set up. He won't be up all night," I said.

"We need to wait," Cormac said. He saw I was about to huff and shushed me with his eyes. "If we lay low a few days, they'll think we're hunting in another area. That will give us time to find them, _observe them and make a plan,_ and then start picking them off. You can shoot them from afar, and we can move or adjust the bodies so it looks like something else killed them," Cormac said.

I knew he was right. As much as I wanted to run off right now and get the job done, his way was better.

"We can start tonight. Start _finding_ them, _not_ attacking them," Cormac said.

"I can't wait all day! I'll die of boredom!" I said. Just do _nothing?_ That wasn't the Career way.

"There's plenty to do," Cormac said. "We _can't_ even leave until we get the Cornucopia cleared out. There's just two of us. If we leave, someone will take all the stuff."

I saw where this was going. "So we have to destroy all the stuff we don't want to use and hide the other stuff?" I said.

"Get ready to channel your inner squirrel."

* * *

Aspasia Sommers- District Ten female

Something stung my cheek, and I smacked at it. Then something stung my forehead. I saw the pebble bounce off the ground and looked around.

" _PSST!"_ Laurel somehow managed to yell. She and Quinoa were peeking out from behind a rock on the giant hill. I ran toward them and squatted down.

"Sorry, I was trying to get your attention," Laurel whispered.

"Let's go," Quinoa said, leading the way around the hill to the far side, where we wouldn't be visible from the Cornucopia.

"Do we have a plan?" I asked as we ran.

"We're going to run to the far side of the hill, and then up," Laurel said. "Hills are hard to climb and almost everyone went to the forest. The Careers won't want to look here, because climbing hills is hard." She tapped her temple to demonstrate how clever this was.

"It's so open," I said. "They'll be able to see us for miles." Since we'd be on _the highest point in the Arena,_ on a grassy, treeless hill.

"We're going for those rocks," Quinoa said, pointing at a rocky outcrop almost at the top but not quite. They weren't big enough for any caves, but we could squeeze in out of sight.

I felt horribly exposed on the long, arduous climb. Every step reminded me how how tired I was getting, and how helpless we'd be if the Careers saw us. But they must not have come around to our side, because we made it to the rocks unmolested.

Squeezed into our hidey-hole, I could appreciate the view. We could see miles of forest, and the river stretching on forever, and the hill we'd just climbed, dotted with patches of purple flowers. The sun was starting to set by the time we got there, casting bands of colored light on the scene.

"We're really in the Hunger Games," I said. After the marble and glass of the Capitol, the chilly air and the soreness in my body and the hard rock underneath me seemed starkly visceral.

"I'm so glad we all made it," Laurel said. "I thought for sure at least one of us would die."

* * *

 **No deaths this time, since this is right after the Bloodbath to set the scene and establish the Arena. So unless you're changing your votes for some reason there's no need to re-vote.**

 **Fun fact: This Arena is based on Crianlarich, a Scottish Highlands village I got to visit. It was very pretty and scenic, and the people were lovely. Aspasia and the others are on Ben More, a small mountain in Crianlarich that they're very fond of. I climbed about halfway up (it's not THAT big) before the other LadyC half was scared of the mud. Someday I shall return!**


	31. The First Night

Sky Levings- District Five mentor

It was just senseless. You couldn't even chalk this one up to baloney about preventing a rebellion. Someone didn't check a stupid rope, and Rachel was dead. She didn't die because of Capitol elitism or cruelty. It was plain neglect that killed a child.

* * *

Erwin Jacobs- District Five mentor

Sometimes they die. Almost always, they die. It was easier for me to just not get attached.

* * *

District Five

Most of us had never even heard of Rachel. She was practically a street kid. We got our first real chance in a long time, and then we were cheated out of it. And the Mercators had to bury their child and keep living without him.

* * *

Blake Armani- District One mentor

Out in the Bloodbath. That was pretty humiliating. It wasn't my fault they died, or that we had two non-Career volunteers this time, but I still took it hard. Regardless of their performance, I was the one that took the flack from the people back home.

* * *

District One

This would be one of the years we didn't talk about. This was exactly why we had a Career system in place: to prevent unprepared, helpless children from getting killed and making us look weak.

* * *

 **ROYCE TRIATHO-** Cormac McCarthy POV

Royce was a lot like me. We were both devoted to the women in our lives and cared about so much more than training and killing. I knew how he got mixed up in this, and it was a tragedy. Some people aren't meant for the Arena.

* * *

 **DAFFODIL STARSHINE-** Cedar Hedgeson POV

Daffodil's face was one bombshell after another. First, that she would be the one to go. Everyone like Daffodil. No one ever said "Wow, I just hate Daffodil". Then, that she died so soon. She was smart and capable and a crack shot. Then she was just… dead. I didn't think I would ever understand it.

* * *

 **EDISON WESTBROOK-** Jules Maserati POV

He was just a boy like me. If things happened differently, he would be the one looking at my face. There was so much chance in the Bloodbath, and even in the rest of the Games. People lived and died on the roll of a die.

* * *

 **VERA TRIATHO-** Faust Xantina

She just came at me like a maniac. There wasn't even any planning to it. She was like a rabid dog, not someone trying to eliminate a threat. She'd gone nuts.

* * *

 **TUILELAITH GLADSTONE-** Siobhan Harrigan

Specialization brings expertise at the expense of vulnerability. If she'd gotten to the poisons, it would have been her game. She took that gamble and it turned out sour for her.

* * *

 **THUNDEROUS COPPER-** Osiris Horatio

I would have felt guilty if someone else hadn't already taught me the same lesson.

* * *

 **MICO SAMSON-** Penelope Ruto

He was the one that understood things. All the others had no idea what the world held. He was with my brother now. Someday we'd all be there.

* * *

Barnaby Mercator- District Three male

Raw potatoes weren't so bad. They were crunchy and still tasted pretty much like cooked potatoes. They were really filling. My bag was going to last a long time.

I started separating the potatoes into piles, estimating how many I'd need for a day. When they were all grouped out, it looked like I had enough for eight days, assuming I ate light. I'd make sure not to move around or do any work I didn't have to, so I wouldn't waste calories.

The Arena was pretty at night. There was a half-moon, so there wasn't much light, but it wasn't scary. The trees seemed more welcoming than ominous. Even if it had seemed scarier, I needed to go out. I had to find water.

Since the Arena was temperate and I hadn't been moving much, I didn't feel seriously dehydrated, but I still needed water before daylight. I might be debilitated by then, and it would be more dangerous to look in the light. It was nigh impossible in the dark, but I tried to find the thickest, greenest grass.

I heard the spring before I saw it. It was a tiny trickle, bubbling up from some tree roots and disappearing into a muddy spot. I knelt by the tree, bending over to get some water. I knew it was dangerous to drink unfiltered water, but it was just a chance I had to take. I might die if I did, but I would definitely die if I didn't.

I sat back up and saw Siobhan kneeling in some tall grass, her arrow pointed at my head. It seemed so unfair that no matter how hard I worked, they had all the advantages.

* * *

Brocade Ristallo- District Eight male

"Hey, give me your hat," I said to Osiris as we swapped off guard shifts.

"Why?" he asked, taking it from his pocket.

"Trust me," I said.

As the others slept, I looked over the hat. It was knitted, and the yarn was pure wool. It would be stretchier than was ideal, but it would work. I found the last stitch and ran it between my fingers, separating the strands. I broke each one on its own, since they were too strong together.

Once one link was broken, the hat slid apart easily. It was calming to slide the yarn through it sloops and unwind it into one long strand. Before long, I had a strand of yarn that coiled maybe fifteen feet around me. I folded it into rough thirds and broke them apart. Gathering up the three strands, I started to braid.

The next morning, as we gathered water from my sheet and drank it along with some of the bread and peanut butter from Faust's bag, I gave Osiris my handiwork.

"Here," I said, handing him the cord.

"You unwound my hat?" he asked, sounding more perplexed than upset.

"I made it into a bowstring," I said. "Just find a curvy stick and there you go."

"That's why you wanted my hat," he said, smiling.

"I sure wasn't going to use _mine!_ That's _my_ hat," I said.

* * *

Dagny Sigurdson- District Eight female

In the Bloodbath, I'd only grabbed things that were super close. That netted me an empty drawstring bag and a compass. I wasn't sure what good a compass was without a destination in mind, but it might be good for something.

I took a chance following the river. Most of the Tributes went for the forest, with its cover and supplies. I prioritized water, and I'd have plenty of that, but it came with the obvious drawback of being a huge target for the Careers. Surely they'd know to stake out the water. I hoped they searched the woods first and gave me time to make a plan. Otherwise I was toast.

Since I survived until nightfall, that must have been the case. After the Bloodbath, I'd heard only one cannon, and it sounded like it was in the woods. Meanwhile, I'd walked far enough from the Cornucopia to risk stopping for a while.

 _It's fast-flowing water,_ I thought as I apprehensively drank. _That means it's safer, right?_ Time and my stomach would tell. When I had enough water, I started the messier portion of my plan.

First, I dug out a little hollow in the mud by the river's edge. Scooping up handfuls of mud, I daubed it all over my skin until I was solid brown, shuddering at the matted, heavy feeling in my hair. I settled down in my little hollow, which was partly set into the small incline the river had dug into the plain, and scooped more mud over myself. I couldn't be sure what it looked like from above, but I couldn't imagine I was anything more than barely visible, if someone knew exactly where to look.

 _Good. I'll come back to that before the sun rises._ In the dark, I could look for food. The woods were about a hundred yards away, so I would try to go as little as possible, since I was exposed the whole way. I crept to the trees and looked around until I found one I recognized.

 _Yes,_ I thought when I saw the white hawthorn flowers. Berries were dangerous to eat if you didn't know what you were doing, but I did. I filled my bag with the red berries, then crept back to my hole.

 _Food, water, and a hiding place. All in one night._

* * *

 **16th place: Barnaby Mercator- Shot by Siobhan**

 **Siobhan was stalking Faust's alliance, but she happened to find Barnaby first. I think people voted for Barnaby just because they had to vote for someone. It wasn't by a huge amount or anything. Barnaby was hardworking and mature, though not as mature as he thought. He also had inclusive and delightful hobbies, like baking. Thanks Sparkaleah for a Tribute with realistic maturity and flaws for someone his age, as well as characteristics that defied arbitrary gender norms.**

 **Barnaby had -3 votes. He stayed pretty close to 0 the whole time, and had multiple people loyally voting for him to live.**


	32. Alba an Àigh

**GOOF: It was AlexFalton and not LordShiro who submitted Thunderous. I messed it up because I'm dylsexic and sometimes don't line up submitters and forms properly since I add the submitters in later. So to all the kids out there who think they're dumb because they're dyslexic: YOU TOO can... write HG fanfic, I guess.**

* * *

Demi Johal- District Six female

It must have been about three in the morning. "The Witching Hour", my grandmother used to call it. What she meant was that no one had any business being up at that hour, but it just made me want to be out even more. _The Witching Hour,_ I'd think as I crept around doing no good, and I'd smirk to myself as I pretended I was a mysterious, powerful witch working her tricks.

I'd gone for the grassy plain when the Bloodbath started, pausing long enough to grab the kickass knife and a backpack. My pack had a small water bottle, some protein gels, and a fishing kit. That pointed toward the creek. It was a risk, but that was my game.

The grass went up to the middle of my calves. It wasn't high enough to hide me if I walked, but I could creep through it if I crawled. I slunk toward the creek, the grass swaying around me. _Ticks live in tall grass, right?_ I thought. We didn't have ticks in Six, but I'd heard they carried disease. _The Games probably won't last long enough for someone to die of disease… knock on wood._

The sun wasn't up yet, but the sky was starting to gain a lighter shade of purple. The Witching Hour was turning into twilight, and then it would be morning. A single bird tweeted, seeming premature to me.

There was a shadow on the grass ahead of me. It shifted, like the shadows in my bedroom used to seem to do when I was little. That didn't scare me. What scared me was when it thickened.

 _Okay that's not right,_ I thought, as the shadow started to smoke. It curled in on itself and pulsated, sending out and retracting tendrils. It was blacker than the night around it, but in the middle of its shapeless mass, it glinted rainbow like an oil slick.

I couldn't stab something with no form. I scooted backwards, first scuttling and then flat-out running, despite the risk of Careers. Behind me, the shadow raised itself to the top of the grass, flowing over it like a coat of paint. It was frightfully fast.

I felt nothing when the shadow hit me. I had only the certain knowledge that it _had_ hit me, and was flowing over me. Amorphous pseudopods and wafting vapor moved before me as it moved. It settled on my mouth, and my ears, and my nose, and it soaked into me. It wasn't painful or hot, but the sheer presence was unbearable. It swelled inside me, conforming to my shape. I remained standing, but I felt my body crumbling apart as it corroded me like a rusted pipe. Then it left me, because I was shapeless.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

There had to be plenty of Tributes in the woods, but I hadn't seen any so far. Probably it was because I'd seen the way Faust's allies were headed, and I went sharply oblique to them. I was in a lower section of the forest, down in a dip that I hoped meant water. I hadn't grabbed any in the Bloodbath, but I had something so much better: a water purification straw. I could drink from any source, as long as it didn't have something dead floating in it or something.

I hadn't seen any wildlife yet, so it caught my eye when a butterfly flew past. Then it went past catching my eye to stopping me in my tracks. _Oh my gosh I got stung by a tracker jacker and don't even know it,_ I thought. That was the only explanation for why the butterfly had a human body.

"Good morning," the butterfly said in a funny accent, and it waved. It had clear wings, red hair, and a little dress made of leaves.

"G-good morning…?" I said back. _I'm drunk,_ I thought, but I hadn't drunk alcohol since all the times I snuck it at my mother's parties, each time thinking it would taste good this time and each time finding it disgusting.

"Where yeh headed?" the butterfly asked.

"I don't know," I said.

The butterfly crossed her human arms crossly. "I can't get yeh lost if you don't know where yeh going."

"Do all the butterflies here talk?" I asked.

"You're not very smart, are yeh? I'm a _pixie,"_ the pixie said.

 _Oh, have mercy._ This was one of the Arenas with _those_ muttations. But it made sense. The hills… the forest… the scenery… we were in the Highlands.

"I'm a pixie, and I play tricks," the pixie said. "For example, you're all alone. Let's get yeh some friends."

"HEY!" the pixie screamed, and I jumped in surprise. The insect-sized thing screamed as loud as a person.

"Not so loud!" I stage whispered.

"HEY! THIS GUY NEEDS A FRIEND!" The pixie screamed. Then she squawked as I swatted her out of the air and clenched her in my hand.

"Shut up!" I hissed at her.

"Or what?" she said, her tiny hands trying to peel at my fingers.

"I'll pop you like a grape," I said, flexing my hand lightly.

"Fine," she pouted.

"Promise?" I asked. If I remembered right, fairies were tricky, but they never flat-out lied.

"I promise," she said. I opened my hand and she fluttered up beside my head. As I went to move on, she followed. I looked at her questioningly.

"If yeh don't want any friends, guess _I'll_ have to be your friend."

* * *

Quinoa Farmer- District Nine female

Our hill had a high enough elevation that in the morning, mist from low-hanging clouds shrouded us. This was perfect, since mist meant water. Aspasia, Laurel and I all stripped off our shirts, standing around in our bras as we soaked up the moisture on the grass and squeezed it into Aspasia's empty bottle- she was the only one who'd grabbed anything at the Bloodbath. Laurel claimed she hadn't been raised by no fools, despite evidence to the contrary, and I'd been so rattled by bumping into Royce and then him dying almost on top of me that I'd bolted empty-handed.

"You know, this is exactly what boys think girls do when they have sleepovers," Laurel said as we sat around topless.

"I'm just glad they _gave_ us bras," Aspasia said. "Isn't that unfair or something that we get more clothes than the boys?"

"Maybe the boys have bras too," I said.

"That one girl strangled a kid with her bra," Laurel commented.

"Smart," Aspasia said.

I hadn't even noticed Laurel was standing next to a little hole in the ground. Then a furry snout poked out of it. She noticed it the same time as I did.

" _AAUGH!"_ she screamed, snapping up her leg and stomping it on the head. The badger-sized thing squeaked and flopped its legs. Laurel screamed back, flapping her hands as she stomped it again. Half a dozen stomps later, it was obviously dead.

"You killed it," Aspasia said, nudging the bloody thing with her toe.

"It scared me!" Laurel said. "What iiiiis iiiit?" she wailed, curling her hands up to her chest as she looked down at it.

"It looks kind of like a badger," I said. "Oh, weird." Its left legs were twice as long as its right legs.

"And badgers don't have long hair like that," Aspasia said of the blonde tuft of hair running down its back.

"Well I know one thing," Laurel said, having gotten over her shock. "It's _meat._ That means we can eat it."

"Eww, raw?" I asked.

"We can't really build a fire," Aspasia said.

"Oh- _ho!_ " Laurel said. "But _I_ have _this!"_ She held up her little container. " _SALT!"_

* * *

 **15th place: Demi Johal- Filled up by a brollachan**

 **I was perusing a list of Scottish myths for obvious reasons, and the brollachan caught my eye because it was described as "a shapeless thing". The Blob being one of my favorite movies, I knew I wanted to use that. A little more reading told me it was a bit more like the monster from Stephen King's The Raft, in my opinion one of his scariest. So that's the mixed genesis of the brollach. In Scottish stories they possess people and the people die after a few days. I sped it up instead of going with the possessed route because I've just never been one for Tributes getting made into muttations. ANYWAY I liked Demi. Sure she was a punk from Six, but I actually haven't gotten that many, and it's only a stereotype because Six and Five are the only Districts that can create that type of punk. Thanks willemsbakedgoods for a punk that wasn't overly EDGY and just kind of liked making chaos.**

 **Demi was at -3 votes. She stayed about like that throughout the story, and only now it was enough to kill her. She had a couple of live votes, but like six people voted for her to die so it was a net of -3.**

 **Most people know that I have a harty dislike for humanoid or intelligent mutts and nearly always avoid them. For this story, that aversion is lifted. Scottish myths have a ton of fairies or intelligent monsters, and I want to celebrate that, so there will be way more intelligent mutts in this story.**

 **Scottish creature counter: Demi was killed by a brollachan, Jules has gained the company of a friendly pixie, and Laurel slew a haggis, inspired by my humor when I found out Scottish people like to tell tourists that haggises are little badger-like animals that have one pair of short legs and one pair of long ones they use to run sideways around hills.**


	33. Day Of Reckoning

Cedar Hedgeson- District Eleven male

Penelope was weird. I didn't want to be judgey or anything, but she was _weird._ She was always talking about spirits and darkness and it just wasn't stuff I wanted to get mixed up in. She had me counting my hairs every night, because if she got her hands on one of them she was gonna do some weird voodoo crap and I was _not_ about that noise.

For that reason, I elected to partner up with Lulu. Nice, normal, kind of pretty to be honest, Lulu. We were on the "buddy system", as described by Faust. We were supposed to be with another Tribute at all times, so Cormac and Siobhan wouldn't pick us off. It seemed to me like Cormac and Siobhan would just pick two of us off at once, but I wasn't a big smart Career, so what did I know? Lulu and I were currently paired up, Faust was with Osiris, and Brocade was the least assertive and got himself shacked up with Penelope the weirdo. It wouldn't surprise me at all if we came back to find his intestines all strung out in a pentagram and Penelope conjuring something even worse that what the Gamemakers made. I threw him a sympathetic look as I left camp.

"This is meadowsweet," I said to Lulu, holding up the plant with its white flower. "It's also called Brideswort, but that's really ugly. Bride's wart? That's not something you want to mess with on your wedding day. It kind of tastes like almond, and it also brings down fevers." We picked some of the plants, careful to not take so many that it was obvious we'd been there. We didn't really need food yet, but the ant and the grasshopper and all that.

"We only have one plant in Three. It's black, and it grows everywhere. We call it asphalt," Lulu said.

"How does it taste?" I asked.

"Crunchy," she said.

I couldn't explain how I knew something was wrong. Penelope would have said I was communing with spirits. More likely it was something my senses registered but my brain didn't quite know.

"Watch out!" I said, shoving Lulu behind a tree. I picked up a big stick and frisbee tossed it at the spot I'd just noticed had a glint of metal.

"Ahh!" came a female voice. Siobhan sat up, shaking her head. We were only twenty feet apart. She'd gotten that close without me even knowing. She saw how close we were and how long it would take to notch an arrow and took off, far out of range before I could even start after her.

"Well that could have been bad," I said, shaking and smiling far too big.

"Imagine that. The Careers stalking the biggest alliance," Lulu said.

"Yeah, imagine that."

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

No one would go to the hill, right? It was all open and hard to climb and stuff. It was stupid enough to work, or to get me killed. But let's be honest, I wasn't really "Victor material". Smart people won the Games. Me… I had a nice personality.

I didn't grab much at the Cornucopia, but I did grab a stylish fanny pack. It had a pocketknife and a pouch of soup, which I'd drunk. It probably didn't give me much for water, but I didn't _feel_ that thirsty. They say if your pee is really dark you need more water, and mine was just a little dark.

"Aha!" I said to myself, seeing a clump of rocks above me. "A place to hide." I made my way upwards, pausing only when I tripped over a stone and almost fell.

I had hardly reached the rocks before there was a blur of motion and something hit me from the side. I hit the ground hard and hardly had enough time to realize it before three furious faces glared down at me from where they pinned my arms and legs.

"Ha! Nice try, Career!" the girl from Nine crowed.

"Aww, wait. It's just Randy," Aspasia said.

" _Randy?_ We caught the _dumb_ one?" Laurel said.

"Yeah, it's just Randy," I said. "Can you let me up?"

"Well, we were _gonna_ kill you with some rocks, but we thought you were Cormac," the girl from Nine said.

"He's not a threat. He's just Randy," Laurel said. She got off my arm, letting me sit up halfway.

"Hey, you guys looking for an ally?" I asked.

"An ally, not a mascot," the girl from Nine said.

"I have a pocketknife. And a fanny pack," I said, trying to convince her.

"Big deal," she said.

"Come on. You're way smarter than me, right? So when the Careers _do_ come, you can all get away while I'm dumb and get caught, right? It'll give you time to get away," I said.

"You're not _that_ dumb," Laurel said, seeming sad that I thought of myself that way.

"Then maybe I can help," I pressed on.

The three girls looked at each other.

"What do you think?" Laurel asked the girl from Nine.

"Guess it can't really hurt," she said.

"Let's do it," Aspasia said.

"All right, Randy," Laurel said, shaking my hand. "You're one of the girls now."

* * *

Faust Xantina- District Four Male

The sun was setting on the second day in the Arena. It dipped behind the mountain on the other side of the Arena, casting purple and red shadows across the trees. The Cornucopia glittered gold in the distance, a reminder of the Careers and the danger they held. The shadows grew lengthier, seemingly holding more menace as they grew. I knew it was only a child's superstition to be afraid of the dark, but I wondered if it didn't hold more merit here, or maybe we were afraid of the dark in the first place because of circumstances like this.

"Funny how some people never make it out of the Bloodbath," I said to Osiris. "It could have been any of us. I was trained and all that, but it could have been me. I try to never lose sight of that."

"Yeah. There's just always some luck, I guess," he said. "You can't control who you're next to."

"Maybe the Career goes for you, and maybe he goes for someone else," I said. "Or maye the Career doesn't go for anyone at all."

"We're lucky to have you," Osiris said. "Siobhan and Cormac would have already killed us all if it wasn't for you."

He was probably about to say something else about me. I'd nwever know, since I grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against a tree. His eyes bulged as he clawed and kicked at me.

"There's always luck, isn't there?" I asked, squeezing his throat tighter. "Or maybe there's a knife, right in your ally's leg. You thought I didn't see, didn't you? I saw it all, Osiris. I saw the kind of ally you are, and what you'll do when Siobhan and Cormac come hunting in the night. You won't get the chance."

If it had been an air choke, it would have left me open to Osiris' kicks and punches. A blood choke put him to sleep in ten seconds. Only then did I switch to pressing on his windpipe, cutting off his air. This was what I trained for. For all the uncertainty I'd felt since I volunteered, I felt none of it waiting for the cannon to tell me his limp body was finally harmless. I carried him away from our camp, far enough that the hovercraft would come for him before the others found out it wasn't an arrow that killed him. No one would know about what he did, or how I responded.

* * *

Osiris Horatio- District Ten male

I couldn't scream for help, which surely would have come. They would have seen Faust pinning his ally above his head against a tree like a comic book villain. But I couldn't make a sound around his hand on my throat. He'd seen me coming and made the plan before I even knew he knew. Faust knew the value of a large alliance against the Twos, and even then he wanted me dead. We were the same. He knew I valued my own life over anyone else's, and because I showed that, I was a threat. Let the others see what happened when it was him or them. He wouldn't be the hero then.

* * *

 **14th place: Osiris Horatio- strangled by Faust**

 **I didn't come into this expecting a death. It was night inevitable once Osiris betrayed an ally, just because of the voting thing. I went ahead and did it now since he had enough votes. Things are moving fast, so I'll cover that with time skips next chapter. I would have done one now, but I wanted to add some scenery POVs to establish the Arena first. For those keeping track, Osiris died the evening of the second day in the Arena, about on track for actual canon Games, which usually have like half the people dead in the first few days. Osiris was a trickster, which sealed his fate in a voting Games, but he had his reasons. He was hurt by people in his past, and he was only reacting to what he thought was the world around him. He kept secrets because he didn't feel safe, and he hurt others to keep himself alive. Thanks LordShiro (for real this time) for a Tribute who was damaged and reacted realistically to what the world did to him.**


	34. Rocks Fall Everyone Dies

**BARNABY MERCATOR-** Lulu Chilcott

Gidget said he liked to bake but was too shy to tell anyone. I would have baked with him.

* * *

 **DEMI JOHAL-** Jules Maserati

There must be something bad out there. Even though I planned to betray her if I had to, I didn't really think I'd outlast Demi. She was so much more streetsmart than I was, and the Arena was like a big open street. Either the Careers got her, or there was something worse out there.

* * *

 **OSIRIS HORATIO-** Brocade Ristallo

Those cowards. Cormac and Siobhan waited until Faust wasn't around Osiris for some reason, then got him the second he was alone. We needed to stick even closer together.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male

"We haven't even gotten one of them," I said, sighing as I sat heavily on one of the folding stoods beside our fire.

"Well maybe if _someone_ didn't walk like an _elephant,"_ Siobhan said.

"Hey, _you're_ the one that got hit with a branch," I said.

"Dumb luck," she said, folding her arms and glaring at the fire while she pretended I couldn't see the red lump on her temple.

We were both right, funny enough. I _did_ walk like an elephant. Over ten years in the Academy, and stalking was the one thing I never got. Hence why Siobhan had been doing most of the actual hunting while I watched the area and guarded her back.

It was getting dark again, which meant unease for the others and prime hunting time for us. We took our time eating the canned soup we'd warmed over our fire, letting the sun get lower and talking about our targets. Much as we wanted Faust out of the way, it was less risky to snipe at his allies first. Siobhan had a special bone to pick with Cedar, but she'd shoot whichever one crossed her path first.

"Hey, what's that?" Siobhan asked, pointing out at a dark splotch moving toward us. I squinted at it, and as it got closer, it started to take shape.

"That's a big cat," I said, of the Doberman-sized cat loping our way. It was so black it looked like a moving shadow, and I could only see it so clearly by the white patch on its chest.

"Hey! Shoo!" Siobhan said, standing up and tossing a kettle in the cat's direction. It jumped over the kettle and kept coming, despite Siobhan's warning shouts. Obviously she was going off what they told you about mountain lions, but it wasn't working.

The cat walked through our camp, straight at the fire. Ten feet away from us, it stopped. It flattened its ears, srcunched itself back on its legs, and hissed.

"Hey, this is _our_ fire. Go get warm somewhere else," I said, standing next to Siobhan so we looked bigger.

The cat pounced, landing on my chest and knocking me over with its surprising weight. It pistoned its legs back and forth, raking my stomach with its claws as it latched its teeth into my cheek. I hooked my thumb into its eye socket as I grabbed its throat with my other hand and bent its head backwards. The cat screamed and started to thrash, scraping my chest all over but unable to get in deep enough to hurt me.

"Get off!" Siobhan screamed. She kicked the cat in the side. It snapped at her as it scrabbled to regain its footing. She took a burning stick from the fire and shoved it into the cat's face, so close it dropped a burning cinder on my cheek. The cat screamed again and jumped off me, spitting and hissing as the fire reflected off its yellow eyes.

"Get away!" Siobhan yelled, stepping forward and shoving the stick at the cat. It spat as it drew itself in.

"MrrrOOoOoOOoOowww!" the cat yowled, then turned and darted into the darkness.

"Are you okay?" Siobhan asked as she helped me up.

"Yeah, just scratched up," I said. I felt at the torn skin hanging from my cheek. "You still think I'm handsome?"

"My views haven't changed," she said deadpan.

All her roasts aside, I felt a sudden, intense appreciation for Siobhan. For any ally, but especially a Career, there was a constant fear of betrayal or abandonment. Siobhan could have left me to the cat and gotten rid of some competition without any risk. We'd told each other we were in this together, but her actions were so much louder than her words. We were the only ones in the Hunger Games who had someone we could depend on.

* * *

Penelope Ruto- District Twelve female

I crouched beside the little hold in the ground, rock in hand. Brocade and I were guarding the camp. While he was gathering sticks and braiding grass to make rope, I had other plans. I'd been sitting in the same spot for hours, and eventually it would pay off.

A furry snout poked out of the hole, followed my the rest of the mole.

 _Thump._

There wasn't much blood. The mole was dead, to be sure, but it was a pretty clean kill, all the better for my purposes.

"I caught a mole," I said to Brocade. "I'm going to go clean it. I'll be right over there." I pointed to an open spot between some trees a few feet from camp, far enough that our camp wouldn't smell like guts but not far enough for us to be separate.

I held the mole by the tail as I cut its throat with the fish knife from Faust's bag, letting its blood drip down into the grass.

"Here, take this life," I whispered, then started to murmur little nonsense words that meant nothing to me but might to something else. _Darryl,_ I called as I continued the ritual.

I cut down the mole's front, opening its fur out like two pages of a book. Its spine and leg bones made a rough t-shape, which I'd seen it a lot of books about spirit symbols. I'd done all the steps and given over a life, but nothing happened. Minutes passed, and I heard nothing.

"Darryl," I called softly, not wanting Brocade to hear. But there was nothing.

 _Nothing. Nothing at all._ Not even another spirit, mistakenly called but still welcome. Nothing at all from my brother. We should have been closer, since I was in the Arena now. He was silent, as silent as the gray, bloodless mole before me.

* * *

 **Ha ha actually no one died.**

 **I keep wanting to put Cormac McCarthy because of that writer. It's Abrams though.**

 **SCOTTISH FOLKLORE COUNTER: Cormac has survived an attack from a Cat Sith. They're attracted to warm fires, since they're cats. If they'd just let it sit by the fire it probably would have contentedly napped and wandered away in the morning.**

 **TIMELINE: the Cat Sith attacked on the evening of the third day. Penelope did weird voodoo crap the morning of the fourth.**


	35. Purity

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

"Mmm, that's some good whatever the heck that is," I said, rubbing my stomach. "Some yummy what-is-it jerky with a nice coating of salt."

We'd seen half a dozen more of funny little animals since I killed the first one. They liked to scuttle around the hill, which explained how their legs didn't match. It also made them really easy to catch. One of us would jump in front of it and yell. The critter would try to turn around, but when it did, its legs were the wrong way around and it would overbalance, rolling down the hill. Another of us would be waiting down there to scoop it up and whack it. We had three of them laid out in the sun, coated with salt and slowly drying.

"You all want to see what's out that way?" Quinoa asked, pointing out beyond the hill to what was probably the edges of the Arena. There were some smaller hills in the distance, and between ours and the next one, there was a valley filled with super green grass and purple flowers all along the bottom.

"Sure, let's go look," I said.

Down in the valley, there was a narrow stream. That would come in handy if we ran out of mist. We took off our shoes and walked down it. It bent sharply and stopped in a little pool underneath some trees.

"Oh look, horses," Randy said, pointing at four white horses meandering around by the pool.

Aspasia gasped. "Those aren't horses," she said. And she was right. I'd never seen a horse such a pure white color, with such flawless golden manes. And then there were the horns.

"Unicorns!" Quinoa yelled. She ran toward them, splashing through the creek. I thought they might run away, but they placidly watched her come. She ran up to one and stroked its nose.

 _It's really real,_ I thought. Quinoa was fearlessly touching a real unicorn. Its golden mane flowed even without any breeze, and golden tufts of fur lined its legs. It had dark golden eyes and a glittering horn. I felt almost unworthy of such a sight. This was something for a fairy tale, not a normal girl like me.

"Unicorns!" she said again. "Come on!" She jumped up on the unicorn, landing halfway across its back and scrambling to get up.

"It just let you on like that?" I asked. "Well okay then." I walked next to one of them and cautiously touched its side. Its fur almost glittered it was so fine, and its pearl-white horn had a delicate gold spiral down it. "May I get on?" I asked. The unicorn turned its head and nuzzled me, so I hopped on. I almost shook with the magical delight of being on a real, live unicorn. It was the sort of thing little kids imagined when they were out in the woods, thinking up beautiful things that weren't real but could be real for a while if you remembered the magic. I felt like the chosen one from the fantasy stories I loved so much but always hurt a little when I put them down and the world was real again.

"Come on, Randy, they're nice!" Aspasia said. She cocked her head when he shrank back.

"No, no, it's okay," he said, holding up his hands. He looked down and hung his head.

"Oh, are you scared?" Quinoa asked, not rudely. Some people are scared of big animals like horses.

"No! I just…" he started.

"What's wrong?" Aspasia asked.

"You know how unicorns are," Randy said. "You gotta be… you know…"

"Oh, you're not a virgin!" I blurted out. Randy flinched and held one hand tightly in the other, backing away another step.

"Oh," I said softly. "You're not a virgin."

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

"That's no big deal," Aspasia said. "You're eighteen. Most people aren't."

"I just am because it seemed icky, to be honest," Laurel said, her big smile showing she was trying hard to make things lighter. She hopped off her unicorn, and the other girls followed.

"I wasn't eighteen when it happened," I said. Why did we have to find the unicorns? They were so beautiful and perfect. They were bringing up something I'd tried hard not to think about for a long time, something as dirty as they were clean.

"Someone hurt you?" Aspasia asked, looking like she was going to cry before I did.

"No, it wasn't like that," I said. "I said we could. It just wasn't… what I thought it would be. It was one of my Mamas. She did a lot for me and she was always so good to me. I'd never done that stuff before, but I wanted to make her happy, you know? She kept asking about it and I wanted to make her happy, and I was just sixteen and I was so stupid." I couldn't look any of them in the eye as I talked. I wouldn't have talked about it at all, but I didn't want them to worry it was something worse. My heart beat harder than normal, and I could feel it in my neck. My chest felt tight, and I'd never figured out why it always made me want to cry.

"She didn't make me do anything and she was super happy. I even sort of had fun. But afterwards I wished I hadn't. I know most of them don't really care about me, but that one got me. I felt like I had this dirty secret and I wasn't ever going to be the same anymore. I broke it off with her after that, and I'm glad I never saw her again. I shouldn't have done it," I said. My voice shook, and I stopped talking.

Laurel, Aspasia, and Quinoa all crowded around me, patting my back and touching my arms. Something bubbled over and I started to cry.

"I wish I could take it back," I said, as my body shook.

"It doesn't make you bad," Aspasia said. "She shouldn't have pressured you. Just because someone is nice or gives you money, that doesn't mean they can make you do things you don't want to do."

"I feel so gross," I said.

"If I knew a guy and he did that to me, what would you say?" Laurel asked.

I drew back. "I'd be so mad! I'd want to tell you it wasn't your fault and you were still a good person!" _No one should do that to Laurel! No one better try!_

"It's not your fault and you're still a good person," Laurel said. It hit me like a tractor. It got me right in my heart, like a cure I'd never known existed.

"You all really think so?" I asked, looking at my allies.

"Duh! You don't make people do things they don't like," Quinoa said, balling her fists by her side.

"But I can never go back," I said.

"That's what you did, not what you are. What you do in the present is what's important," Aspasia said.

I wiped my eyes and smiled. "You gals are so nice."

"It's just right, not nice," Quinoa said.

"If you can't ride the unicorns, I won't either," Laurel said, and the others agreed.

"No, that's okay. It would be dumb not to use them. It would be really useful to have unicorns to ride. You should all ride them and I'll run behind."

I heard hooves clopping as one of the unicorns walked across the riverside rocks toward me. It stood next to me and bent its head back to look at me.

"No, you don't want me," I said, holding out my hands. "Sorry."

The unicorn took my shirt gently in its teeth and tugged.

"Really, dude, I'm not qualified," I said.

The unicorn folded its legs and lay beside me. It tugged my shirt again, until I put a hand on its back to steady myself.

"I think it wants you to get on," Quinoa said.

"Look, you got this mixed up," I told the unicorn, but I put one leg on its back. I expected it to finally figure it out and buck me off, but it just looked at me patiently. "You sure?" I asked, as I slid my leg across it and sat. My heart fluttered when the unicorn stood, still looking at me.

"Yay!" Quinoa yelled, jumping back on her unicorn. Laurel and Aspasia followed as I tried to figure it out.

"But I'm not…" I said, looking at my allies for answers.

"You _are,"_ Laurel said. "Unicorns are about innocence and purity. You can be pure and not be a virgin, and you can sure be a virgin and not be pure. It's your heart they care about."

"No way," I said quietly, my smile growing as I looked down at the unicorn. I thought for sure I was messed up for what I did. The unicorn thought differently, and they were the experts on purity and all that. I couldn't argue with a unicorn. It must really be true.

* * *

 **This wasn't in Randy's form. I knew I wanted unicorns, since they're Scotland's national animal. Laurel's alliance made the most sense because they're pretty young and innocent. Then Randy joined the alliance, and it all came together with his past as a sugar baby. I got a chance to do some wildly unexpected development and spread a message I heartily stand behind about how men can also be sexually preyed upon, how virginity and purity are not identical, and how you can change from what you were and once you change, the old stuff doesn't matter.  
**


	36. Two Chapters? Why Not Three?

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

It was hair-raising knowing that Siobhan and Cormac were stalking us at every given moment. When I was with Cedar, I'd had no idea Siobhan was fifteen feet away from us. If he hadn't noticed, we'd both be dead. She could be out there right now, lying silent in the grass and waiting for the right moment. She was like a panther, waiting to eat us up and there wouldn't even be time to make a sound.

"What if _we_ go find the _Careers?_ " I asked as we sat around in the morning eating berries and the last few protein gels from Faust's stuff. "There's only two of them. We outnumber them, but we won't if they keep picking at us."

"Yeah, I was thinking that too," Cedar said. "They already got Osiris."

Faust looked off into the woods. "If we fight them, we'll probably kill them both. But a lot of us will die. You know that, right?" he said.

"We'll die if we don't," Brocade said.

"All right," Faust shrugged. "But we need to make a plan first."

"Let's make a fire, then smear the ashes all over ourselves and attack at night so we blend in," I said.

"That sounds like a storybook," Penelope said.

"So does a bunch of kids getting forced to kill each other in an Arena," I said.

"People used to do that forever ago, but they got called racist," Brocade commented.

Penelope screamed and fell sideways. Faust jumped to his feet and scanned the area, but Siobhan was nowhere to be seen. The only trace of her was the arrow in Penelope's chest.

"She shot me!" Penelope screamed, looking at the arrow still stuck in her.

"Everyone get behind a tree!" Faust said. Most of us ran behind the same one, since it was especially fat. Faust grabbed Penelope by the collar and yanked her along with us.

"Don't move," he said, bending over her. It seemed like a lot of blood, but it also kind of seemed like less than an arrow wound would make, if that made sense.

"She's in a tree," Faust said. I looked closer and saw the arrow slanted downwards.

Faust poked at the area gently. "It's okay. It bounced off your rib. Do we have anything clean?"

Brocade pulled Lulu's hat from her pocket. Faust held it by the wound, yanking out the arrow at the same time he pressed the hat to the hole. The blood didn't even go all the way up the arrow head, showing the wound was pretty shallow. Brocade helped Faust cut one of the extra straps off his bag and tie the hat in place.

"I'm gonna be okay?" Penelope asked, looking nervously at the wound. "It stings."

"Let's just hope it doesn't get infected," Cedar said. "And we definitely have to get the Careers."

* * *

Dagny Sigurdson- District Nine female

I tied my bag to a heavy branch and let it dangle into the water. It had taken me an hour to tear all the tiny holes in it, but it was for a good cause. The bag was full of acorns I'd gathered. Acorns had a lot of tannin in them, which was bad for you. You couldn't eat them as they were, but if you ran water over them for a while, it leached out the tannins. So I put them in the bag, poked holes in it, and now I was going to let it sit overnight with the river water running through it. Then tomorrow I could pound the acorns and have them to go with the hawthorn berry fruit leather I'd been drying.

So far, the water didn't seem to be giving me any trouble. I'd noticed I was a little… looser, but it wasn't really bad. I was putting in more than came out, and that was what mattered. I felt bad _going_ in the same river I drank from, but it went downstream, and I couldn't risk going somewhere else and being exposed to the Careers. It would be mortifying to get killed while I was trying to do that.

The water stirred upstream as something broke the surface. I'd seen a few fish, but I hadn't been able to catch any yet. Maybe I could make my bag into a net, but I was wary of putting more holes in. I couldn't take them back out, after all.

The water stirred again, closer to me. As the creature got nearer the surface, it started to take shape. It was big, big enough that I backed away in case it was a river shark or something else horrible. Soon, though, I saw that while it had a fish tail, it had a very human upper half.

 _A mermaid,_ I thought, and for a second I was delighted. Mermaids were beautiful and mysterious. This one turned out to be a mer _man._ It had a very handsome face, I noted as it peeked up at me from under the surface. It had reddish hair and green eyes and freckles.

"Hey there," I said, scooting a little closer. I was still wary, because I didn't think the Capitol would make anything this pretty unless it was horrible, but it seemed so welcoming. It raised its eyes above the water to look at me better. It put its arms down and crawled along the riverbed closer to me. It bent an arm and waved for me to come in.

"I'm not sure," I said, smiling apologetically. The merman frowned and made puppy eyes at me. It smiled winningly and gestured at the water as though to say _come on in, the water's fine._

 _Maybe it's actually a good mutt._ There had been such things. There was the poltergeist, and the phoenix from forever ago. The fantastical mutts seemed to be friendlier than the animal ones.

The merman held out his handand stayed very still, inviting me to come touch it at my own pace. I very much wanted to, and I could feel my resolve ebbing away. I scooted a little closer and started to reach out a hand.

As I did, my compass fell out of my pocket. The glint of light caught my eye and I looked down. As soon as I did, I sucked in a breath. Reflected in the compass' metal cover was a crooked thing. It was covered in yellow fur, with sunken black voids for eyes and gnashing teeth with no mouth.

I yanked back my hand, passing within inches of the creature's at it made a horrible noise and grabbed at my hand. I scuttled on my stomach back against the mud embankment as the creature threw itself at me, its arms clutching at the mud as it was stopped by the edge of the water. I lay panting, too scared to stand as my eyes went back and forth from the merman before me and the thing in the reflection.

The creature stilled, then slid back into the water. It beckoned at me again, seeming surreally unaware that I knew what it was. It stayed like that for some time, alternating between waving at me and abruptly throwing itself at the water's edge. Some minutes later, the merman's face went blank and empty, like a discarded shell. It slid under the surface and swam away, leaving only a shadow growing smaller in the distance.

 _That was there the whole time,_ I thought. For five days I'd been mere feet away from that thing. I thought of all the times I'd unthinkingly stuck a hand into the water or let my feet dangle when the sun was hot. It turned my stomach, but I made the decision to stay. I was feet away from death, but now I knew it and knew how to stay away. This was still the best place for me to be, in terms of supplies and camouflage. I'd just stay on my toes, and if the Careers came for me, they'd get a lot more than they imagined.

* * *

Quinoa Farmer- District Nine female

We learned quickly that unicorns were friendly but still independent. They would let us ride, and if we asked politely they often went where we were going, but they were no loyal steeds. They plainly preferred to stay near their pool, so we met in the middle and moved camps. Laurel went back to grab the dried critters (which tasted weirdly like spiced sausage), and the unicorns tossed their heads and snorted at the smell on her hands. We hung them from a tree a few steps away, so they wouldn't get buggy and the unicorns would be mad.

In the middle of the night, I was woken by a nuzzling in my face. I shook my head and sneezed at the hair by my nose. I sat up, pushing the unicorn head away.

"It's the middle of the night. We can play later," I said, rubbing my eyes. The unicorn's wide gold eyes shone in the night. It pushed its nose back at me, knickering. It nibbled at my shirt and tugged.

"What is it?" I asked, getting up. Obviously it wanted something. It looked off into the distance, then back at me. It tugged at my shirt, pulling me up against its back.

"Okay, fine," I said. It was probably something important. Maybe some mean fairies were nearby. Or maybe this one just liked playing in the middle of the night. It bent its legs as I climbed onto its back.

The second I got on, the unicorn bolted. It galloped full tilt into the open plain, its nostrils heaving with the effort. I lurched forward and grabbed its mane, scared I'd fall off.

"Hey! Not so fast!" I said. I looked back at our camp, which was already a good stretch behind us. When I looked back, nothing was right. The unicorn's horn was gone, and it was solid black with burning red eyes. Its mouth foamed as it ran faster.

"Laurel!" I screamed, and wondered if we were still close enough for her to hear. I called for my allies, knowing that even if they heard, they could never catch up. The ground bounced underneath me as I clung to the horse's neck, jarring and bumping. It was then that I remembered sitting up and seeing the unicorn… and the four unicorns behind it. _Four unicorns…._ And an extra one.

The night seemed to swallow us up as the creature raced on. It neighed, a high-pitched screaming wail. A dip in the grass jarred me sharply, and I clawed at the horse's back to stay on. If I fell underneath, I knew what those powerful legs would do.

Sky and grass and air blurred as the creature stopped in an instant and reared, its legs leaving the ground as it bucked and twisted. My hands scrabbled at air as I tumbled backwards. The ground rushed up at me as I fell headlong. My head twisted back as I landed heavily, and I actually heard the snap. The horse's faded as I thought of how far I'd come, and how no one could have prepared for this.

* * *

 **13th place: Quinoa Farmer- Thrown by a puca**

 **Pucas are most associated with Ireland, but they also appear in Scottish stories. Usually they just run with you all night and dump you off sore and tired, but this one straight up kills you. Quinoa was young and cocky, but that's just how kids are. Goodness knows we had our cringey face we do our best to destroy all evidence of. She was also a good friend and did grow enough to admit her limitations. Thanks 4everlark for submitting a young Tribute with a small chance of winning but still a big spirit.**

 **SCOTTISH MYTH COUNTER: Dagny survived an encounter with a Fuath, the general term for multiple shapeshifting water monsters.**

 **TIMELINE: Quinoa died on the fifth night.**


	37. Let's Not Lose Our Heads

Aspasia Sommer- District Ten female

 _DId someone call me?_

I opened my eyes and turned my head, not all the way awake but not asleep anymore.

"Laurel! Randy!"

 _That's Quinoa!_ I sat up, as Randy sat up beside me and Laurel blearily rubbed her eyes. My eyes swept our camp, and Quinoa was nowhere to be seen.

"It's Quinoa!" I yelled as I jumped up. I ran toward the unicorns. They were thrashing their tails and pawing at the ground, their ears folded and the whites of their eyes flashing. All the same, the closest one let me jump on. As soon as I was in place, it took off after the sound, with Laurel and Randy not far behind.

"Quinoa!" Laurel called as we galloped across the grass. I could hear Quinoa's screams from somewhere far off, and far worse than the fear in her voice was the fear that they would stop.

The screams stopped.

A cannon sounded.

The unicorn kept running, but my body went slack on top of it. I looked back at Laurel behind me. It was chilling to see her face empty for once. Behind her, Randy had his face pressed into his unicorn's neck. Even in the dark I could see him shake.

My unicorn stopped sharply, tilting back and beating its front legs at the air. It hit the ground hard and shied back. I looked past its head and saw something deathly still on the ground.

I jumped off the unicorn and ran, kneeling by Quinoa's body. And I knew it was a body, both from the cannon and the eerie way it lay. Her head was bent sideways slightly, like she was craning her neck to look at something. Her eyes were open, furthering the image.

 _What happened?_ Why was she here, so far from camp and in the middle of the night? She knew it was coming. What was it that scared her? Partly from curiosity and partly to touch my friend one last time, I took her hand. It was still warm. _A warm hand on a dead body,_ I thought, and it made me feel cold.

"What happened?" Laurel asked, crouching beside me.

I looked around at the quiet, empty plain. There was no sign of anything that could have done this, not even any marks on the ground. It was like the Arena came to life and took her.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

 _You just had to open your big mouth._

When it came time for the recon party to go scope out the Cornucopia, of course Penelope couldn't go. She was doing pretty well for just having been shot, but it would be plain stupid to have her go running around tearing open her wound so it could get all nice and infected. So we had her stay behind to guard the camp, as much as a arrow-shot outlier could guard against Careers. For that exact reason, she needed a buddy.

" _Who wants to stay back with Penelope?"_ Faust had asked.

Crickets answered him.

"Don't everybody jump up at once," Penelope said.

"Hey, Lulu, didn't you take care of your sister back home?" Cedar asked.

"Yeah, I love her so much!" I started, immediately perking up at the reminder of Leslie. Everyone looked at me with glittering eyes. "Oh no."

 _You have experience,_ they said. _You know how to take care of people,_ they said. _Leslie's autistic, not shot!_ I said. But too late. After somehow ensnaring Brocade to be the third homebody, since three people would actually give the Careers pause, Faust and Cedar lit out like their backsides were on fire.

Not ten minutes later, I heard the sound of someone crashing through the woods. For once, I didn't have to be afraid. If it was the Careers, I'd be dead before I heard them. It was Faust and Cedar coming back.

"That didn't take long," I said as I walked toward the noise to greet them. "What's the news?"

 _Oh my gosh oh my gosh._

I'd heard of Tributes living past things no one should live through. I'd heard of mostly-dead Tributes reaching out a nearly fleshless arm for one last try at victory. I'd even heard of what I was seeing, but only in childish legends told around a campfire. I stumbled back and fell on my butt, scuttling backwards away from the figure. I didn't know how the Careers got Faust, but what was far worse than that was the sight of him stumbling toward me holding his head in one hand.

"What's wro _OOH SHIT!"_ Brocade said, coming out after me.

"What? What is it?" Penelope asked from behind us.

"It's a mutt!" I yelled, because after that first moment, I saw it wasn't Faust at all. He wasn't nearly that tall, and he wasn't wearing deerskin pants and a tattered shirt.

The mutt took a few steps toward me, then drew his arm back and launched his head straight at my face. I jerked my head aside. The rush of air ony my cheek told me I'd narrowly avoided having my face caved in. As the mutt ran toward me to retrieve his head, I had a wild idea.

 _No you don't!_ The head was looking up at me, its eyes rolling around. I picked up the bloody thing and shoved it against my shirt. As I'd hoped, the mutt stopped, flailing its arms in confusion.

The head squirmed in my hands, gnashing its teeth and gnawing at my shirt. I peeled off my shirt and wrapped it around the head, tucking it under my arm like a football. As Brocade looked at my in horrified confusion, I held a finger to my lips. Stepping lightly and avoiding dry sticks, I crept to our supplies and took out the fishing knife. _I can't believe I'm doing this just don't think about it,_ I thought as I stabbed one eye and then the other. To my relief, the head didn't make a sound past a low growl.

I unwrapped the head, picked it up, and carried it away from camp. When I was a few hundred feet away, I stopped. "Hey! It's this way!" I yelled, and threw the head as far as I could. I bolted in a curved line back to camp as the mutt rushed off following the sound. It wandered erratically in that direction, until eventually it was out of sight.

"I can't believe that just happened," Cedar said as we watched in the direction it had gone.

"I just don't want it to come back," I said, my stomach still churning from the memory of a head slobbering at my stomach.

"That was quick thinking," Cedar said.

"Just never again," I said firmly. "Never again.

* * *

Dagny Sigurdson- District Nine female

Until yesterday, I'd dreaded my excursions to the forest to gather plants. While I loved the trees and flowers and the respite from the soggy mud, I was painfully aware of how exposed I was making the short run across the grass. After what I saw in the compass, the only time I felt safe was when I was leaving the river behind me. Despite all its advantages, I was quickly convincing myself it was smarter to move.

The sun had just set when I made the run, giving me cover as well as making me even more eager to be far away from the thing in the river. I made it to the forest without incident and slipped into its shelter. It was harder to identify plants in the dark, but I would stick to the easy ones and be cautious.

A crow called as I walked between the trees, raising the hair on my neck even though I knew it was just a bird, and a harmless one at that. Everything was just scarier at night. The three-quarters moon cast more light than past days, leaving longer shadows to shift as branches swayed.

It was so silent and subtle that I hardly moved when I saw someone following me. _It's Siobhan,_ I thought, and for an instant I froze like a frightened rabbit. In that instant the woman walked toward me, and everything about her made me quail even more. Her skin was colorless, and her red hair didn't stir in the wind. Her unblinking eyes were utterly still, reflecting the moonlight as they pointed at me with inhuman intent. As she walked, all of her joints slid freely, like they were floating in space.

The paralysis broke and I turned, fleeing into the forest. When I looked behind me, my stomach clenched at the sight of the woman sprinting full tilt behind me. Running as fast as I could, I barely maintained the distance between us.

It seemed like hours that I ran, and whenever I looked, the woman was the same distance behind me. Sometimes she was running, sometimes bounding on her hands and feet like a cat. Once I saw her in the trees, jumping from one to another across the branches as twigs snagged her green dress. I knew my pace was flagging, and still she was the same distance. She slowed along with me, her head still unmoving and her eyes catching mine every time I looked back.

I bent forward as I ran, panting and dry-heaving with the exertion. Foamy saliva flecked my mouth and my ribs and lungs stabbed at me with every step. I stumbled forward, sobbing at the invariable sight of her behind me, keeping pace and watching. Tripping and sometimes crawling, I sobbed as I slowly tried to escape.

I fell again, and when I tried to rise, my shaking arms couldn't push me off the ground. I tried to pull myself forward and fell still, exhausted. I rolled onto my back and watched the woman finally come closer at a serene walk. As she advanced, I saw the pale claws on her fingers. She was too still to be human, but the light in her eyes didn't give me the relief of calling her an animal. I whimpered when I saw the hoofprints trailing behind her.

 _What do you want?_ I wanted to ask, but even breathing was an effort. The woman crouched beside me, smelling of rust, and when she brushed the dirt from my neck I received a nightmarish affirmation of her humanity. She gripped my throat with one hand, digging in her claws. She twisted her hand slowly, raking five cuts into me until the blood oozed out. Her mouth opened and she bent closer. I felt the wet motions at my throat like a dog lapping up my blood. It smeared on her cheeks, leaving me as pale as she was and her ruddy with my life.

* * *

 **12th place: Dagny Sigurdson- Killed by a Baobhan Sith**

 **I was gonna save the Baobhan Sith for the Careers, but Dagny's form requested a dark death for her and I aim to please. Astute readers saw the writing on the wall when she got two POVs in a row, but that's just how the votes turned out. She got more than I expected (-2) considering she was pretty clever. TBH I did the compass thing because initially it was just a useless Bloodbath thing but then I thought of that and was so taken with my cleverness that I added it. She had a good thing going with the camouflage and the water, but the Highlands got her in the end. Thanks CarlpoppaLOL for a Tribute that understood death but wasn't obsessed with it and who still understood life as well.  
**

 **SCOTTISH MYTH WATCH: Lulu took no crap from a Coliunn Gun Cheann, a Scottish Headless Horseman character.**

 **VOTING UPDATE We're down to THREE life votes and THREE death votes now! Also behind-the-scenes note: The Careers and Faust's alliance have been twiddling their thumbs so long because they all have roughly the same amount of votes so I can't kill any of them XD Hopefully the number change will shake things up.**

 **ALSO I accept "donated" votes, as in if you can't decide, you give extra votes to me for whatever's best for the story. I use those extremely sparingly and generally to break ties. In those cases, I analyze the voting trends and reader reactions to try to predict who is the more likely Victor and kill the other tied Tribute.**


	38. Arma Virumque Cano

**DAGNY SIGURDSON-** Brocade Ristallo

 _Huh, my District partner._ It was surprising she'd lived this long, what with how young she was. Guess she knew something a lot of people didn't, but not enough to live.

* * *

 **QUINOA FARMER-** Laurel Pine

Aspasia, Randy and I huddled together when the Anthem played. She was the only cannon, so we knew when to expect her. Aspasia took my hand when her face appeared. We all looked as hard as we could. This would be the last time we saw our friend.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

"What's it like in Eight?" I asked Brocade. I'd already asked everyone else. Faust said it was pretty much like the stereotypes. Penelope said everyone was hungry all the time and you could never get the black dust out of your clothes.

"It's hard to explain to someone who's not from there," Brocade said.

"What does that even mean? It's not like some mystical fairyland," I said.

He shrugged. "It's just a different culture, I guess. What's it like in Three?"

I sighed. "Fine. We're not all smart, for one. A lot of us are, though. There's this stupid fad where people wear glasses even though they don't need them. They think it makes them look smart, but we're already smart. A lot of us, anyway."

"I can see that. You seem pretty smart," Brocade said.

"Thanks," I said. He didn't notice, but I was giving him the side-eye. I tried to see the best in people, but every day I spent with Brocade, I was more sure that he was a blowhard. Every time I asked him anything about himself, he would try to deflect it, and he thought he was so subtle. I absolutely knew he was doing it. I just wasn't rude enough to keep pressing him.

 _Whatever. If you want to be all mysterious, have at it._ I wandered off to gather sticks, careful to stay close to camp and check for suspicious noises.

I felt a little guilty about how much I enjoyed the Arena. It was still a nightmare hellscape of constant paranoia from getting stalked by murderers, but the actual Arena part was fun. Absurd as it seemed, I was more relaxed here in some ways than at home. It always took all my energy to take care of Leslie, and she was always my first thought. Here, I could think about simpler things like gathering sticks. I could lie out at night and smell the flowers and leaves instead of concrete and exhaust. I loved all the quiet, serene nature and how very on my own I was. I had allies, but none of us were going to be there through everything. I could be my own person here. I only hoped Leslie was doing all right without me. But then, she didn't connect to people very well. It should have hurt me that she might not even notice I was gone, but that was better than her being sad all the time. I did think she noticed, though. She loved me, just in a different way than most people.

 _Leslie is more loyal than any of these people._

It was a strange but true thought. We were all allies for our own protection, each of us thinking the alliance made someone else more likely to die and ourselves more likely to live. We only helped each other because it was good for us. If the Careers came and I tripped, no one would stop for me. If Leslie was here… she still wouldn't help me up, because she hated touching people, but she would wait for me. People like her seemed selfish, but they weren't really. They were absorbed in themselves because they didn't understand that other people were there. It was a sad world where an autistic girl had more feelings for you than your friends.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

Cormac was underneath me, pushing up on my butt as I nervously climbed the tree. I always thought it was so silly how he trained in climbing, and had told him so a hundred times. Yet here we were climbing a tree, and I was nervous as a kitten. Except a kitten wouldn't be nervous climbing a tree.

Faust and his allies were moving in on the Cornucopia. We'd seen the signs of their little excursion when we returned to dig up some supplies. They'd figured out their advantage and were coming for us. We faced that in brave Career fashion: we retreated.

Tents were _not_ my thing. I could 'rough it' if I had to, but I was not destined to travel Panem with my house on my back. But the Arena called for Arena measures. The canvas bag Cormac was carrying promised that the tent was easily hung from any branch sturdy enough to hold our weight. It was camouflage green, and if we were high enough, it would be easy to overlook in all the greenery. Unfortunately, that meant we would be sleeping fifty feet off the ground, hanging from a glorified canvas sack dangling from a rope tied to a metal ring.

I mostly held on to the tree trunk as Cormac fought with the tent. There were little rods to add in to give it a definite shape, and they were nigh impossible to thread into the tiny fabric loops. Of course we dropped one, making Cormac climb down the entire tree, leaving a trail of profanity that scorched the air. But eventually, the tent was done.

"I don't know," I said as I _very_ carefully hooked a leg into the opening, very aware of how far I was above the ground and imagining myself tumbling out, one leg catching on the doorway and then falling with the rest of me.

I took in a deep breath and committed myself, jumping into the tent. It swayed, and I waved my arms, trying to find something solid to grab onto. My stomach roiled, and I stuck my head outside just in case.

"I think I'm seasick," I said, as Cormac climbed in like a monkey.

"It's kind of cool. I feel like an elf or something," he said, peeking out at the ground.

"Elves don't live in trees," I said.

"Pardon me, Ms. Elf Expert," he said.

"I guess it's good for spying on people," I said, realizing I would have to climb in and out every day and not liking the thought.

"You can shoot people without leaving your bed," Cormac said.

"I guess," I said. The tent _was_ in range of Faust's camp, which was why we'd had to climb in while it was almost pitch-black. Now that I was in, maybe I could just stay for the rest of the Games.

* * *

Brocade Ristallo- District Eight male

Penelope peeled up the corner of her bandage, checking the arrow wound. I went over and looked.

"Looks like it might get infected," I said.

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

"I just know about this kind of stuff," I said. That, and we both saw it was already reddish at the edges and kind of puffy.

"Doesn't really take a genius," Penelope said. " _Maybe_ an arrow wound wrapped in dirty cloth _might_ get infected."

"Let's just hope it doesn't," I said. _Actually, it wouldn't be the end of the world. You're super creepy and no one likes you. Why did we even let you into the alliance?_

Karma was having a good laugh that day, because I ended up stuck with Penelope and Cedar when the others went to run more recon on the Careers.

"I'm gonna go take care of some stuff," Cedar said. "If I get shot, tell the others I was looking for firewood and not… you know."

Penelope and I sat on opposite sides of camp while I tried to pretend she wasn't there. Luckily, she wasn't interested in useless small talk either.

"Uh, Brocade?" Penelope asked after a minute. I looked back at her from where I'd been daydreaming. She was looking at the arrow wound. "Can you come over here? It opened up."

I sighed as I went over. What was I supposed to do? I wasn't a doctor. She was most likely going to die. That was just the Games.

"Okay, let's see-"

I was lying on the ground. My ears were ringing, and my head felt empty, except for the part that ached. I pushed up with an arm and rolled onto my back to see the bloody rock in Penelope's hand and the fish knife in the other. She stabbed it into my chest, wiggling it until it slid between the ribs and deep into me. As she did it, she put a knee on my throat and pressed down so I couldn't scream.

"Here, take this life," she said, and then started mumbling nonsense syllables as she waved a hand in some arcane pattern over my head. She saw the question in my expression and shifted her weight so I had just enough air to whisper.

"What re you doing?" I whispered. I tried to push her off, but my brain didn't seem to connect to my body right anymore, and I was already feeling the blood loss.

"A life for a life. The spirits take their price. It's not personal," she said, and pressed her knee back into my throat. She yanked the knife from my chest and picked up the arrow that had shot her. She shoved it into the hole, then poured water onto my head and dabbed at the blood.

I squirmed under her, clawing at her knee and mouthing words. She shifted her weight again.

"So it's not personal," I whispered, the blood already bubbling up into my mouth. "It's just completely idiotic."

* * *

 **11th place: Brocade Ristallo- Stabbed by Penelope**

 **Brocade was interesting, because he wasn't really a likeable guy. He was "mysterious" and "edgy" and selfish. All the same, he got enough votes to get this far. You just never know. He was set to die here and Penelope's form had her sacrificing an ally after she got wounded, so sometimes things just work out. Thanks Galaxy842 for actually sending in someone with some negative personality traits.**

 **The votes are getting closer. Brocade died at -1**

 **TIMELINE: Brocade died around 10 AM (not that it matters, just a fun fact) on day 8**

 **Title shoutout to all the horror movies with evil chants that don't count on the viewers knowing Latin. For example one time I watched a movie where a Satanist ominously chanted "with a grain of salt beware of the dog". They thought I wouldn't know... The title is the first line of the Aeneid.**


	39. I INTERRUPT MY STORY

**...to tell you I'll be leaving Tuesday for three weeks in the desert :( Needless to say I enjoy this no more than you do. But I'll be back and the show will go on!**

 **Sorry to get you all excited and then it's just this. Here's some scribbles.**

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

They thought they were so clever with their Highland mutts. I wasn't an idiot. I knew that screaming lady didn't need help. What kind of dummy hasn't heard of a banshee? Nu uh no sir I was NOT going over there. Can't get your doom foretold if you don't see the banshee.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

"Is a rhino a unicorn?" I asked Randy.

"No, it's a rhino," he said.

"it has one horn," I said.

"So does a clown," Aspasia said.

"Is a clown a unicorn?"

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male

 _Siobhan's so pretty when she's asleep. It's the only time she doesn't look intense._

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

 _Doggonit Cormac you know I hate it when you stare at me when I'm trying to sleep._


	40. Caught With Her Pants Down

**SURPRISE I'm in Cali at an Air BnB because we finished our photos and hightailed it out early because three weeks in a metal building in the desert sucks. Here's an early chapter before I get back to New Orleans.**

* * *

BROCADE RISTALLO- Penelope Ruto

I hadn't heard anything from my brother soon, but the forces I'd killed Brocade to appease were much more powerful. It hadn't taken hold yet, but soon I'd be whole again, ready to see this thing through until the end.

* * *

Tillo Peters- District Eight mentor

I hadn't expected either of them to win. It got more difficult to be cold after I had a child of my own, but I'd seen this before twenty times and I'd see it twenty times more.

* * *

District Eight

Half of us were proven right, having cynically thought Brocade wasn't nearly as smart as he thought he was. The other half had believed in him until the end and were shocked and outraged at what Penelope did. Dagny's grandfather's health declined sharply in the months after her death, culminating in a bout of pneumonia that left him mostly wheelchair-bound. He left the chair only to cultivate a tiny garden, where he crossbred a pink-edged calla lily in his granddaughter's memory.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

I couldn't hold back any longer. I had to come clean.

"Cormac?" I asked.

"Yeah?" he asked, rolling over and making our tent sway sickeningly.

"I gotta go."

Cormac dramatically groaned and sat up. "It's all right," he said. "When you gotta go, you gotta go."

Of course it had been his idea to use the buddy system _at all times,_ even when doing something you just had to do yourself. It could be embarrassing, but it made sense. Heaven forbid you get bushwhacked with your bush out. And besides, I wasn't doing anything Cormac hadn't seen me do before. You don't raise a kid with someone without getting to know every bit of them.

Cormac and I picked a spot by a tree, covering one side from rogue cameras. Just in case, we picked some ferns and piled them across the trunk to obscure any peeping tom lenses embedded in the bark. Then Cormac took his post on the other side of me, chastely guarding the modesty of his maiden.

I held up a hand, palm flat. Cormac instantly tensed at the signal any Career would know. A flat hand signaled an alert but not danger. Cormac followed my eyes and caught sight of Lulu picking some berries not a hundred feet away from us. I shifted my weight to his heels as I silently reached over my shoulder for an arrow.

* * *

Faust Xantina- District Four male

Even with all the food we'd gotten, it would run out eventually. Lulu and I had to take the chance of leaving Penelope to forage. I hadn't mentioned it, but it was also cold pragmatism. She was definitely going to get infected and almost certainly going to die. There was no use in us dying with her.

It was an incredible stroke of luck when we found a strawberry bush. It was far closer to the ground than I expected, and the berries were much smaller than the ones in stores. Lulu ran ahead as I lagged behind, scoping out the area's perimeter.

I almost hadn't even looked, the area was so quiet. That very thought came back to haunt me when I saw the edge of a silhouette against a tree. In an instant, I followed the outline to the bow in Siobhan's hand and the shining arrow pointed at Lulu.

I couldn't say for sure why I reacted like I did. Partly it was because I was a Career and we were trained to act. Partly it was hubris telling me I could surely beat Siobhan. She was a fragile sniper, not a melee fighter. And not the least part of it was that of all my allies, Lulu was the only one I'd be unashamedly happy to see win. She wasn't a traitor like Osiris or honestly kind of obnoxious like Brocade, or flat-out bonkers like Penelope. She was a good kid, and I didn't want to see it happen like that.

At the sound of me crashing through the woods sprinting toward her, Siobhan pivoted. She was still aiming when I hit her like a bull, wrapping both arms around her neck and lifting her into the air. Only then did I see Cormac, until then hidden by the tree.

Siobhan dropped the bow, wedging her hands under my arms so she could push outwards and break my hold. I whirled around and smashed her into the tree trunk, pinning her and half crushing the breath out of her. Cormac's sword clinked as he drew it from his scabbard. I turned toward him, putting Siobhan between us. Siobhan wasn't out of the fight, though. She reverse headbutted me and then rammed her fingers into my eyes.

As I reeled back, I saw Lulu uncertainly paused, poised to run but conflicted. Her eyes flickered over the three trained fighters, rightly calculated that she wouldn't be of any help, and ran, mouthing "thank you" before she did. Even with the pain, I smiled.

Siobhan entangled her legs in mind and yanked them up to her chest, tripping me. She wiggled out of my hold and rolled sideways. I reached out, snatching her hand in mine. I yanked it savagely and twisted my body. She screamed as at least one bone snapped under my weight. At the same time, Cormac put both hands on his sword handle and threw all his weight into a downward strike, his sword sticking through me and into the grass.

I'd known it was coming as soon as I saw it was both of them and not just Siobhan. But I gave as good as I got, and I think Balthazar would have been proud of my performance and my sisters would understand me doing this for someone so close to Dimas' age.

 _Let's see how you do now, you sniping coward. Let's see how you aim with a shattered hand._

* * *

FAUST XANTINA- Lulu Chilcott

As I ran back to camp, I waited for the cannons, praying it would turn out right. The one sounded, and my heart flopped. Everything slowed down as I clenched my fist, willing the second one to come.

 _First Siobhan. Cormac will be a little later._

No cannon.

 _It takes a while for the brain to die. Faust could be running after me right now._

It didn't come.

My chest tightened as I ran, my breath labored as the emotions welled up. I reached camp, and the truth caught up with me a few minutes later. It wasn't Siobhan's cannon, and a second one wasn't coming.

* * *

 **10th place: Faust Xantina- Stabbed by Cormac**

 **Faust had a lot of sides. He was confident but prone to anxiety, callous but secretly sensitive, and formidable while being very squeamish about killing. Fittingly, the votes were fickle. His form said he would die protecting someone he came to value, and Lulu seemed like the likeliest candidate. Faust wasn't a sentimental fool ready to throw it all away for someone he just met, but he was noble enough to step in and didn't notice Cormac until it was too late. Thanks dude I forgot to write down for Faust, who finally got the story he deserved and was worth the wait. I did his obit early so I wouldn't forget this idea I just got.**

 **Faust died of having zero net votes- he was dead neutral. It's getting that close now.**

 **FUN FACT: Dagny died right next to a patch of calla lilies. I forgot to mention it, but she noticed them and mentally commented on the fittingness of dying by a death flower.**

 **TIMELINE: Faust died sometime before noon on the tenth day.**


	41. At Least Three People Die

Careen Ellis- District Four mentor

Tuilelaith got robbed. Any other year, she would have been at least in the top five. Some weird twist of fate took her out, like the gods themselves decided they didn't favor her.

* * *

Shane Donegal- District Four mentor

Faust made good in the end. I was happy he found things more important than fighting, but for selfish reasons, I wished he hadn't. If he'd died picking a fight with other devoted killers, I could chalk it up to more violence making violence. He died not fighting but _protecting,_ something I learned too late.

* * *

District Four

Tuilelaith was buried in a Victorian-style vault, all gray stone and creeping ivy vines. Her sisters visited regularly, and she transitioned neatly from a living member of the family to one of the faded, dearly-remembered departed. Balthasar never took another pupil, stating that his greatest chance was gone.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male

Siobhan winced as I tried to hold her hand straight as I fitted it into the brace someone sent us not a minute after we killed Faust. It went over her entire hand like a mostly fingerless glove, providing stability for her fingers at the price of limited mobility.

"It'll be fine in a few weeks," I said, realizing only from Siobhan's reaction how stupid that was.

 _We don't have a few weeks._ It went unspoken, but both of us were thinking it. Entire Games passed in a few weeks, and we were already a week in.

"Whatever. We'll get by," she said, scowling at the ground. She felt at her pocket and her face broke.

"What's wrong?" I asked as she frantically reached inside and fumbled around.

"It's broken," she whispered. She took out her hand and opened it to reveal a pile of plaster shards and dust. "When Faust picked me up…"

Our son had been so tiny when we first held him. His little foot was the size of my thumb. We'd pressed it into a lump of plaster and it never ceased to fill me with wonder when I saw the tiny sign of his just-starting life. He'd been with us, in Siobhan's pocket, since the Bloodbath. All of that was gone now.

A tear dropped into the plaster, muddying it. I looked up in surprise. I hadn't seen Siobhan cry in years. Her hand shook under the plaster remains.

"We were stupid to do this," she said.

"It's gonna be okay," I said, putting a hand on her back. "Faust is dead. The rest will be easy."

"It's broken, and so is my hand," she said flatly. "I can't even shoot, and they're never going to let it be easy. We could kill all the others and they'd send some awful mutt to make us fight for it."

"We'll make a new one," I said. "I know it won't be the same, but it will still be Sean. When we get back, we'll make a new one." Later, when she was less upset, I'd point out that we still had his teething ring, which I'd been wearing around my neck. Now just wasn't the time.

" _If._ If _one_ of us gets back, they'll make a new one," Siobhan said. "We shouldn't have done it."

I tried to think of an answer, and in the end, I told the truth. "No. We shouldn't have. But it's too late now. We can't change that. We have to make the best of what we have."

* * *

Penelope Ruto- District Twelve female

They didn't accept the sacrifice. Killing Brocade was a waste, and for the first time in my life, I felt guilty. I killed a boy to save my own life, and it was all for nothing. They wanted me with them. They were already leaving their mark, an angry red circle on my chest. The very center was black, because part of me was already dead. The skin around the area was hot, like hellfire burning inside me. It radiated out, until my whole body pulsed with fever.

 _I shouldn't have killed Brocade._ I pushed against the dirt, slowly raising myself to a crouch. I pulled myself the rest of the way up on the tree trunk behind me, until I stood swaying on my feet. I steadied myself and started to walk.

 _I'm already a killer. Guess that means this won't be too hard for me._

Murder had never been so remote to me as it was to most people. The first one would reasonably be the hardest. I was already past that. Once you've murdered someone, you might as well go all the way and keep going. I wasn't planning to go after Cedar or Lulu. Despite my creepy demeanor, I wasn't a psycho. They were my allies, and they were nice people. Like Brocade, they didn't deserve to die. They were better off without me, better off without a sickly, internally combusting ally they never really liked in the first place.

Cedar and Lulu were both out, scouting for a new campsite. Even with our rock shelter, the Careers knew our general location and wouldn't take long to find us. When my allies got back, they would assume I wandered off to die, and they wouldn't be far off.

 _Darryl. Is this what it feels like to die?_ I walked through the trees, feeling almost like I was floating. Each step brought a pulse of heat and pain in my chest. And still, I wasn't dying just yet. I could still walk under my own power. I could see clearly and knew what was real and what wasn't. Although I wished I could hear my brother's voice again, I knew it was just in my head.

 _But it won't be much longer. Death is inside me, clawing its way out. It will get there, but before it does, I'm going to share it._

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

"I call it 'the instant fire-maker'," Laurel said, proudly pointing out the different odds and ends she had laid out on the grass.

"Very impressive," Aspasia said. "How does it work?"

"Well, it all started off the day I accidentally set my head on fire," Laurel said. "See, I was trying to make a way to burn a neat little ring around a tree so we could knock trees over without having to hit them with axes over and over, since that really tires you out and you get calluses. It didn't work so well, but I _did_ discover that hair is super flammable. Even better, it's also really easy to put out. You can burn off like all your hair, but it doesn't spread to your head that much. I guess skin is thicker than hair?"

"So you used unicorn hair?" I asked, looking at the handful of shimmering strands lying across a rock.

"I was really careful, and they didn't mind. I just held the bottom of the hair so only the top part broke off," Laurel said. The only nearby unicorn (the others were eating some grass in the distance) made no noise of disagreement.

"So you wad them into a ball like this," Laurel said, forming a ball by winding the hairs around a rough piece of bark. "And you leave some sticking out so they catch fire more easily and spread to the others. The first ones catch quick, but the thicker stuff burns longer, so you have time to add the logs."

"How do you start it up?" I asked.

"Eeeeeasy," Laurel said. "The bark is all rough, see? You just flick it with your thumb, and it rubs upward. There's this little hole I poked in the bark, and that's for the last piece."

"What's the last piece?" Aspasia asked.

"It should be arriving…" Laurel held up a hand theatrically. "Now."

Like a genuine miracle, bells started to chime. Aspasia and I looked up to an actual sponsor parachute, floating down like Laurel had created it from nothing. It landed neatly in her hand.

"I made a big sign out of rocks this morning, but asked them to wait until now so it would look cooler," Laurel said. "Thank goodness they listened, or I'd really look stupid."

"Here it is," she said as she opened the box and looked at it. "The final piece."

Aspasia's face went blank, then screwed up like she should have seen this coming all along.

"You can make an instant fire-maker," she started.

"Yup," Laurel said.

"The only thing you need is a match."

* * *

 **The more I do this, the better it gets, since I become more and more chaotic until I'm so duplicitous you don't know if it's more unlikely I'm lying or telling the truth.**

 **PS I think it's been a while since Jules got a POV so I AM aware of that and he's up next. Not in a bad way... OR IS IT?**


	42. Someone Actually Dies This Time

Jules Maserati- District Six male

I watched with perhaps a little mean-spirited amusement as the pixie vainly struggled with a wasp, who was waspishly guarding a clump of flowers that were apparently very delicious-looking to pixies.

"Ow!" the pixie cried. She sat heavily on the grass, sending up a cloud of sparkles. She held one hand in the other and carefully picked out a stinger.

"You need a hand?" I asked.

"No! I can do it!" she said.

"Really, it's no trouble," I said, as she grabbed the wasp in a headlock and punched it in the head.

"Don't you dare!" she said. "Ow!" she let the wasp loose and prodded at a red swelling on her arm.

"Okay, I'm just gonna…" I said, and I swatted the wasp out of the air and stepped on it.

The pixie's hands flew to her mouth. "I told you not to!" she screamed, looking more horrified than upset. Her tiny eyebrows furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. "All right, what do you want?"

"What?" I asked.

"If you do something for someone, they owe you. You get to make them do something probably terrible," the pixie said.

"Oh," I said, having figured it out. "Like all those stories where you eat one grape and you're stuck in fairyland forever."

"You humans think you can just _eat_ a _grape_ and there aren't any consequences," the fairy said.

"Well, don't worry. I don't want anything," I said.

"Sure. Then why did you kill the wasp for me?" she asked.

"I just wanted to help you out," I said.

"What kind of crazy reason is that? You just _want_ do something for someone, even though you don't get anything out of it?" the pixie asked.

"Yeah. Most humans are like that," I said.

"That's weird. This is why humans get tricked so much," the pixie said.

"It really is," I admitted.

"You're just all nice to each other and work together all the time?" the fairy asked, uncrossing her arms.

"There are plenty of bad apples, not gonna lie," I said. "But most people are helpful most of the time, I'd say."

"Well… thanks," the pixie said, nudging a flower open to get at the nectar. "You want some nectar? It's really good."

"Thanks," I said, tapping a finger to her tiny, nectar-laden hand. "Looks delicious."

* * *

Cedar Hedgeson- District Eleven male

Faust's death changed everything. In an instant, we went from being constantly on the alert but still too big to outright attack, to being three vulnerable, nearly helpless Tributes. Penelope was half-dead- probably almost entirely dead, since she'd wandered off. And Lulu and I were two normal kids with no skills or advantages to speak of.

Obviously, we couldn't stay in our camp anymore. Penelope had made her decision and there was nothing we could do for her even if we found her, so it was just me and Lulu now. We stuffed what we had into Faust's bag and I heaved it onto my shoulders. It wasn't any outdated chivalry- I just happened to be stronger than Lulu and it made sense.

"Let's head toward the Cornucopia and see what's on the other side," Lulu said.

"Sounds as good as anything else," I said. I knew it wasn't a logically thought-out plan, but I just wanted to be far away from the Careers, even if maybe staying close and hiding might have been a better idea. I had no idea which was the better idea, but I knew the lizard part of my brain wanted to be far away from predators.

"So. Top ten. Did you think you'd get his far?" I asked Lulu as we walked, twigs crunching underfoot."

"Not really. How about you?" I asked.

" _Heck_ no," I said. "Here's to surprising ourselves all the way to victory."

A twig snapped behind us. We both whipped our heads back and ducked, expecting to see Siobhan about to shoot at us with her non-dominant hand and scowling because she'd given herself away. Instead we saw Cormac, who was making no effort not to give himself away, because he was sprinting full-tilt at us.

" _Nope!"_ I yelled, shrugging the backpack off and bolting. Lulu was ahead of me with her head start, but I caught up quick. Cormac, who evidently spent more time on swording than sprinting, maintained an unhealthy but manageable distance.

I burst into the clearing around the Cornucopia, scanning the area for the best escape route. I aimed for the river, deciding to take my chances with the current and hope Cormac wouldn't. Lulu split off diagonally, and Cormac passed her, picking me as his lucky initial target.

As I had just about reached the riverbank, the sun passed behind a cloud, casting a shadow over the Arena. Or so I thought, until I heard the rustling. I glanced up and saw a quickly growing black mass spreading from the horizon. Squawks and cheeps emanated from the seething sea of birds. Hundreds of thousands of wings beat the air, so many that I could feel the drop in pressure.

 _Well, I hope they're friendly,_ I thought, not slowing. They might kill me, but Cormac definitely would. I heard his noise of confusion as I ran toward the birds and hoped that meant he was stopping. As soon as I hit the bird cloud, I had no way of knowing. I couldn't see anything but blurry black feathers.

Sparrow-sized birds mobbed around me, pecking and nipping at me. At first I just swatted at them, but when they started to try to pick me up, I had to escalate.

"Oh, you want some?" I asked, snatching one and wringing its neck. "Think again!" More and more birds came, and more and more birds got wrecked. At the same time, I knew it wouldn't last forever. I was trickling blood from dozens of little cuts, and I had to keep one hand by my eyes so they wouldn't get pecked out. It got harder to wring the birds' neck when my hands were slick with blood.

"I don't think so!" I yelled, snagging a bird going for my eyes. "You're gonna have to earn it." On my feet, and then on my knees, and then on my face, I made those birds pay for every bit of life they took from me. In the end, there was a puddle of blood around me, and only half of it was mine.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male

 _I could die. I could die right here without Siobhan even knowing I'm in danger. All the promises we made, and they could all be over here._

I swung wildly at the birds, adding to the pile of ruined and broken bodies at my feet. For a moment I hung suspended in the air, held a foot off the ground by countless tiny birds. I twisted and thrashed as I cut at them, shifting my weight and cutting them down until they dropped me.

I started to make my way backwards, working toward the cover of the trees. Cedar wasn't a concern anymore. I wasn't even sure I could get out of this alive. I almost tripped over a dead bird as I stumbled back.

My back hit a tree and I grabbed onto it, slipping around it and into the woods. I hadn't even known I was that close. I turned around, and my view went from nothing but wings to the empty, welcoming woods. As I stood panting, contemplating how close it had been, I heard the cannon for someone else who hadn't gotten that far.

* * *

Luli Chilcott- District Three female

I had just gotten into the clearing when the birds came. The sheer force of them bowled me over, backwards toward the trees. I rolled onto my front and crawled the last few feet to safety. I crouched in the trees, untangling a bird from my hair and throwing it into the black cloud.

 _I would have died if I'd been a few feet farther,_ I thought. I only lived because I was slower than Cedar. Then I remembered Cormac, and got to my feet. I ran parallel to the clearing's edge, hoping he would be there awhile. Or maybe forever.

* * *

 **10th place: Cedar Hedgeson- mobbed by the Sluagh**

 **People like Cedar are always appreciated. Extroversion, talking skills, and effervescent personalities are so much more dynamic, making them easier to write and great for drawing other Tributes out. They're the salt of an SYOT. Cedar never had a huge following, but no one disliked him, either. I think his allies made it hard for him to express his flair, since they were either pretty quiet or a murderous occult girl. Thanks Liamml for a modestly skilled Tribute who made life better for every one of his allies. And he DID die hard, as requested. At the end of that fight, there was one dead Cedar and like sixty dead birds.**

 **Cedar died at -1 vote. That last vote came in pretty late. I started his death chapter when he was neutral. He stayed at around +2 for most of the Games and only dipped as the numbers got thin.**

 **SPEAKING OF VOTES: Top ten! That means THREE life and THREE death**

 **TIMELINE: Cedar died on the 12th morning**

 **SCOTTISH FOLKLORE COUNT: The Sluagh are a big ol' swarm of birds that like to carry people away or, as I read, just kind of drive them into the ground with their weight.**


	43. I Aim To Please

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

 _Stay here,_ Cormac said. _You should rest,_ he said. Not running might be helpful… if I ran on my _hands._ But he liked to fuss and truth be told, he was faster than I was. It didn't make much difference if I stayed put and kept watch while he went to see if he could catch Lulu and Cedar before they abandoned camp.

A cannon sounded, and I smirked. Sounded like he found them. Or maybe someone else got eaten by a wolf or something. I was surprised when another cannon didn't come, but not nervou. Probbaly one of them ran off while he was killing the other. I wasn't afraid that Cormac was dead. He had a good head on his shoulders. He wouldn't let them get the drop on him.

I sat with my back against a tree, making sure no one could attack me from behind as I scanned the area for anything unusual. I stood up when I saw movement in the distance, ready to attack if it was a Tribute, wave if it was Cormac, or climb the tree like a scared cat if it was an unfightable mutt.

It was a Tribute, but I didn't attack just yet. There was something off-putting about the way Penelope was walking straight at me, completely unafraid. She was stumbling and weaving like a zombie. Her skin was pale as death, and there was a huge bloodstain on her shirt. She was breathing so irregularly I could hear it from fifty feet away. She ran at me suddenly, and I almost retreated, she was acting so strangely. But she wasn't even holding a weapon, and she was obviously in no condition to fight.

Penelope hit me straight on, bouncing off onto her butt when she found out I was ready and had braced myself. She grabbed my leg and tried to yank me off my feet. I kicked her in the face.

"Heard your hand is broken," she said, all wheezy and sick-sounding. She bit me near the ankle and for the first time, I felt fear. I did _not_ want to mess with rabies.

"Yeah, but… are you stupid or what?" I asked as I stomped her head. "I can still kill you!"

* * *

Penelope Ruto- District Twelve female

I rose with surprising quickness and shoved Siobhan, knocking her back a step. I aimed a punch at her nose. She did some fancy karate thing, stepping aside and wrapping her arm around mine so she almost broke it. I fell on my side, and she climbed on top of me. As I clawed and batted at her, she took an arrow out from her quiver.

"You don't have to shoot someone," she said. She shoved her hand up under my chin, pressing my head back. She dragged the arrow across my neck, until blood gouted out. She leaned back and stood up, backing away.

I wasn't dead yet. With the last of my strenght, I stood and looked her in the eyes. "I'm not going to survive this. I didn't plan to. Non-believers like you…" I laughed harshly, and it bubbled in the blood. "Pitiful. I'm leaving this world, and I'm leaving a curse. Someday, when you die, we'll meet in hell… and we'll pick up where we left off."

Like a cut string, the life left me. I fell onto my side, toppling over on my back. Sticky blood seeped into the grass, marking the spot forever. I still didn't see Darryl, but it wouldn't be long before we were finally in the same world again.

* * *

Aspasia Sommer- District Ten female

 _We're in the top ten. It's Siobhan and Cormac, and… that's about it. We're the only other big alliance. We could win this._

I knew Laurel and Randy weren't thinking about it. Laurel's intelligence was more about inventing (and yes, I thought that with a straight face). Randy… Randy had so much heart, there wasn't room for brain. I didn't mean that in the least bit insultingly. He was a beautiful person and I was thankful I got to be his friend. His talents just lay in other areas than stereotypical intelligence. My default as much as anything else, I was the planner in this alliance.

"Hey, you two," I said, going up to where Laurel and Randy were watching some minnows swim around in the pool. "I have an idea."

"Cormac and Siobhan are stronger than we are, but we outnumber them, and we have a huge advantage. We have _horses._ Back in the Dark Ages, that was a huge deal. It gives us a height advantage and a speed advantage, plus horses just plain weigh a lot. If you get hit by a horse, you're probably staying down."

"I don't know if the unicorns will be okay with fighting," Randy said.

" I don't know. I've heard a lot of fairy tales where they straight up stomp you if they don't like you," Laurel said.

"If they don't want to fight, at least we can use them to get away fast," I said.

"So you think we should fight the Careers?" Laurel asked.

"Not yet," I said. "Not until we have to. We have lots of food and water here. We should wait as long as possible, so they'll be tired from hunting everyone else. At the same time, we should try to make sure they don't know we have unicorns. So we should wait as long as we can, without waiting so long they come looking for us and find out."

"If we get Cormac and Siobhan, that's basically the Games," Laurel said.

"Except the mutts," Randy said, his face making it clear he was thinking about Quinoa.

"Do you think you could make some weapons?" I asked Laurel.

"No problem," she said, and grinned. I wasn't sure they'd be exactly what I had in mind, but Laurel always came up with something surprising.

* * *

 **9th place: Penelope Ruto- throat slit by Siobhan**

 **Penelope was a second-time submission. Not twice to my stories, but she got sent somewhere else and never written. Now she finally gets to come to life, so that's nice. In a bizarre twist, she got submitted to the same story as another demon-obsessed kid, but Mico died pretty quick. Penelope was a weird girl, but she had reasons, and she actually turned out on the side of good in the end. She was ready to kill, but she went for the Careers and not more innocent kids. Thanks Nyan for a certainly unique and troubled Tribute.**

 **Funny story: Penelope was actually at +3 when she died, putting her near the front of the pack. However, she was submitted to die and was earmarked to die in 9th if she made it this far. Submitters can cank their Tributes at any time, so here she is.**

 **FUN FACT: It's "Fuh-nelope", not "Pen-elope"**

 **TIMELINE: Penelope died in the afternoon of the 12th day.**


	44. Charge

**The copy/paste thing was giving me trouble, so some thoughts might not be italicized. I had to do it manually and may have overlooked some.**

* * *

CEDAR HEDGESON- Lulu Chilcott  
So they got him. I'd been hoping it was Cormac, but I didn't think I'd be that lucky. I'd never been lucky before. It was quiet without Cedar. He just naturally made noise. It wasn't natural to be this quiet.

* * *

PENELOPE RUTO- Siobhan Harrigan  
 _"We'll meet again… in Hell"_  
 _So, the place I knew I was going anyway? I mean, harps and clouds aren't for people like me and Cormac. We need a bit more heat._  
 _"And we'll pick up where we left off."_  
 _...Me killing you? Okay, see you there?_

* * *

Frankie Disney- District Eleven mentor  
Cedar was quite a bit different from me. It was always interesting to see how normal people were so full of life. I always came away feeling guilty that I didn't feel more guilty.

* * *

Hlenn Rambutan- District Eleven mentor  
It really made me think. Daffodil had the skills and the motivation, and she was dead. I was a normal girl with nothing going for me, and I lived. I thought about it every day, but I still didn't understand death.

* * *

District Eleven  
Daffodil was mourned by everyone, or at least everyone who knew her. Cedar was less renowned, but he was still missed. It happened the year before and it would happen every year going forward, but we never forgot any of them.

* * *

Nubu Sanders- District Twelve mentor  
Thunderous and Penelope were two of my more difficult Tributes, but that didn't make losing them easier. If I'd done something different, one of them might still be alive. But if they lived, another child would die. It was a zero-sum Games.

* * *

District Twelve  
No one really missed Thunderous. The Rutos went through the agony of losing two children, but they're never really gone. Especially when dishes rattle in the night, and two cold spots moved from room to room.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male  
It had been three days, and we hadn't found anyone.  
"I don't think they're here," Siobhan said.  
"Want to try the other side?" I asked.  
"Yeah, let's give it a shot," she said. She looked over, wondering if I'd make the bad joke I had a million times before. For once, I had mercy.  
"Feels pretty good," Siobhan said, flexing her fingers as we walked past the Cornucopia. "Another day or two and I'll be ready to shoot."  
"Good," I said. Fun as it was to romp in the woods, I was ready for a shower.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven male

"I call it… spear-on-a-string."

"Brilliant," Aspasia said, looking down at my brainchild.

"You throw the spear, and if you miss, you pull it back, because it's… on a string," I said. More of a rope, since I used vines, but "spear-on-a-string" sounded better. When it was time to fight, we would be ready.

"Laurel! Aspasia! I see someone!"

I hadn't thought it would be time to fight today. Aspasia and I crept up the hill and peeked over next to Randy, who had been chucking rocks to kill time. We lay on our stomachs, peeking over at Cormac and Siobhan, who were slowly making their way up the hill.

"Should we run for it?" Randy asked.

"We can't run forever. They'll make us fight eventually," Aspasia said, even though I could tell she was scared, too.

"What should we do?" I asked.

"Let's run down, get the unicorns, and ride back up to the top. That way we're attacking downwards," she said. I hated how serious her voice was.

I felt numb as we walked back to camp. This wasn't a fun adventure. We were about to fight people who were trained to kill. We had no reason to believe we'd all get through this. This might be the last time I saw Randy or Aspasia, or the last time they'd see me.

Aspasia had politely hidden a smile when she first saw my spear-on-a-stick. As she picked it up for the second time, she put a finger on the tip to test how sharp it was. It was a sharpened stick, made for killing someone. If my invention went right this time, someone would die.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female  
 _What's that sound? It sounds like horses._  
Whatever Cormac and I had expected to find on the other side of the hill, that wasn't it. We both stopped dead in our tracks when we saw it.  
 _Are those… unicorns?_  
Aspasia, Laurel and Randy came hurtling over the hilltop, astride three pure-white unicorns. The glitter of the sunlight off their manes dazzled me, and I had to put up a hand. They galloped down at us, wielding crudely sharpened sticks. I almost smiled. Those weren't going to do much, unless they got close enough for us to fight back. The unicorns, though… they could knock me flat without even meaning to.  
I dodged sideways, splitting off from Cormac so we wouldn't be one big target. Laurel threw her spear at me when she got close enough. I smirked when she missed, then paused when she pulled it back on a rope.  
 _That's kind of clever._  
I jumped backwards, half bouncing when Randy's unicorn ran close enough to knock me back. Its beating hooves sent up specks of dirt, reminding me how heavy it was. I stumbled over a rock and fell on my back. Randy's unicorn reared over my head, and I barely rolled out of the way before it stomped my head. Laurel rode up beside him, and I scuttled backwards on my hands and knees, driven back by the two beasts.

"Cormac!" I yelled. He looked over at me, but he was busy trying to keep away from Aspasia and her unicorn.

I got to my feet and started running. This was a dangerous, unpredictable fight. A single hit from those horses could bring fatal injuries. I zigzagged as I ran downhill, using my only advantage of maneuverability. When Laurel and Randy flanked me and started to move in, there was only one move to make. I changed course and sprinted for a small cliff. When I reached the edge, I vaulted over, falling about ten feet and rolling when I landed. As expected, the unicorns balked near the edge. As soon as I stopped rolling, I started climbing the cliff so I could give Cormac cover fire from the edge.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male  
I darted one way and another, trying to stay out of the horse's range. As soon as I had a bit of distance, I slashed my sword at the unicorn's front leg. It shied at the sudden flash of light, hooves pawing the air. I ran a few feet away so I could collect myself. Then, I had a simple plan.  
I picked up a rock and threw it at the unicorn's head. It screamed and bucked, throwing Aspasia off. She landed neatly and rolled to get away from the unicorn, but she couldn't get away from me.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female  
I heard Aspasia scream and would have gotten myself killed if Siobhan was around, since I did a total double-take and looked over. I saw Aspasia lying on the ground and Cormac standing over her, and everything went blurry. I yanked my unicorn's mane, galloping toward her as I took something out of my pocket.

"Instant fire!"

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male  
"Instant fire!" Laurel screamed. I turned around just as a ball of flame hit me in the face. Searing heat exploded across my skin. I reeled back and batted at it, but too slow. It bounced off my face and slid down into my shirt, catching at the neckline.  
"Get away from her!" Laurel screamed, charging at me. I gasped in pain as I retreated, unable to remove the fireball for interminable seconds because I was occupied with waving off the horse. Despite the agony, I couldn't do anything. Laurel and Randy were on either side of me, all crushing hooves and stabbing spears.  
Molten lava started to drip onto my skin, and that broke me. Sean's plastic teething ring was melting, melting into my skin. I stopped trying to make a plan and fled. I ran past the cliff Siobhan had jumped off, yanking the fireball out with a bare hand and wincing at the pain on my skin. Siobhan saw me running past and followed. Laurel and her friends lived to fight another day, and there _would_ be another day.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female  
Cormac and Siobhan were fleeing down the hill, for now at least. We won the battle. No more Careers.  
Randy and I trotted up to Aspasia, who was still sitting dazed on the ground. I hopped off and walked over, waving at her.  
"It worked!" I said.  
Aspasia unfolded her arms from over her stomach, revealing the blood-soaked slash. "Not so well," she said.

* * *

Aspasia Sommer- District Ten female  
Laurel and Randy were so happy. My grand plan worked. The Careers were running like scared mice. The only casualty was me.  
"It's no use," I said as Laurel frantically tried to bandage the wound with Randy's shirt. I'd felt my own intestines when I first sat up. I wasn't going to get better.  
"No, it's okay. We'll get you better," Randy said, already sobbing.  
"It's okay," I said. "Not everyone wins. We did our best. I hope it's one of you," I said. I was starting to get light-headed. I stretched out in the grass, Laurel and Randy kneeling next to me.

"It should be you. You're the smartest," Randy said.

 _Wow, you really thought that?_ Randy and Laurel really looked at me like a leader. I never thought that was the place for me. Periko had the charisma. I was more of a planner. But I guess that was what they needed here.

"You'll do fine. You're stronger than you think," I said. It was getting cold. Even the blood was cooling on my skin. I took big breaths, wondering which would be my last. Randy and Laurel held my hand, sandwiched between theirs.

My breathing went shallow, and dread washed over me. "I don't want to die," I said. I was so young. I barely got to live. There was so much I wanted to do, and it got taken away before I ever saw it.

 _Did I make a difference? Did I do enough?_ My allies thought I had. I hadn't had as long as most people, but I did everything I could in the time I had. I thought of all the people I'd made a difference for. They'd say I mattered.

I clung to Laurel and Randy's hands, wishing they could hold me here. But I was fading, and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be seeing one of them again for a long time.

* * *

 **7th place: Aspasia Sommer- Stabbed by Cormac**

 **Kind of an anti-climax after all that preparation, I know. Aspasia suddenly got voted for and Siobhan and Cormac both didn't. She made it a long way on her strategy and planning skills, and she only got voted for now because there were so few people left. She certainly did make a difference, and she would have done so much more if she'd gotten the chance. Thanks person I forgot to write down for Aspasia, who had a big brain _and_ a big heart.**

 **Aspasia died at -1. She stayed positive until just a few days ago, after a bunch of votes got freed up by the recent deaths.**


	45. Into the Jaws of Death

Randy Mills- District Nine male  
I couldn't believe Aspasia was really dead. It had been different with Quinoa. We found her already gone, and we never knew what happened to her. Here, Aspasia was alive, and then she wasn't. She just stopped moving, and now, when I picked up her hand, it was cold and stiff. It wasn't right at all.  
"Randy," Laurel said, much quieter than how she usually talked. I looked up from where I sat, crying with my arms wrapped around my knees.  
"We need to be brave," Laurel said. "Brave, and strong, and smart."  
"I've never been any of those," I said. "I let someone else do that, and I just looked pretty."  
"You're about to be all of them, or we're about to be dead," Laurel said. No jokes, or the cheesy smile she got when she was about to make something, or the crazy inventions that sometimes worked but usually didn't. Her lips were curled like someone who was seconds from crying, and her eyes were red and puffy. "It's going to take both of us. We need both of us."  
 _Laurel needs me?_ That changed things. I couldn't do any of this for myself, but I couldn't let Laurel down. Someone like me, the world could live without. Laurel and Aspasia had so much to give the world.  
"You have a plan?" I asked.  
"We need to go after them," Laurel said.  
"What? After the Careers? Even I know that's dumb," I said.  
"Cormac's all burned up. And I think Siobhan's hurt. She never shot any arrows, and she was wearing a weird glove," Siobhan said. "We need to go after them now, before they regroup and make a plan. Either we will them now, or they will come back and they will kill us."  
I don't think I can do it. I'd just seen Cormac kill Aspasia, someone way smarter than I was. What chance did I have? But Laurel was right. We didn't have any chance for sure if we didn't do this. Either way, I was almost certainly going to die.  
 _Put down your hands_ , I told myself. I pressed them to the dirt and pushed up onto my heels. _Now stand up_. I got to my feet. _You're going to do this_. I couldn't control if I died or not, but I could choose to do it bravely.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

My free hand clenched into a fist as I dabbed at Cormac's throat with a damp bit of my shirt. His neck was ringed with a patch of reddish, peeling skin. My own back and sides burned with the bits of rock and dirt that ground in when I went over the cliff. We were sore and tender and humiliated.  
"Give me half an hour to get a few practice shots, and let's go. We'll show them what happens when they fight Careers," I said.  
"Don't be hasty. We underestimated them once-" Cormac started.  
"And we won't again," I said.  
"-and we can't again," Cormac started. "We need to make a plan and do this right. We'll kill them, don't get me wrong, but we have to make a plan."  
"I'm tired of plans! Let's run up there and do what we should have done the first time!" He was underestimating _me_. I wasn't stupid. I would move carefully and not let them get my guard down. I could handle two outliers, now that we knew who they were and their assets.  
"Uhh.. you win. We'll fight them now," Cormac said.  
I looked up in suspicion. Cormac wasn't looking at me at all. He was looking over my shoulder. I followed his gaze and saw Laurel and Randy galloping down the hill straight at us.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female  
I could tell Randy thought I was brave. He kept looking at me for reassurance, and I pretended I didn't notice. I was scared stupid. We were running towards the people who trained all their life to kill kids like us, holding sharp sticks. I was just as scared as he was. I was just pretending I wasn't.  
For the first time since our last fight, Siobhan took out her bow. She aimed an arrow at me, wincing as she pulled the string back. So I was right. She'd hurt her hand at some point. I scrunched close to the unicorn's neck as she let it go. It pierced through the unicorn's ear, and the unicorn whinnied and tossed its head, almost knocking me off.  
"It's okay," I whispered, and I patted her neck. It would all be over in a few minutes. Very likely not in our favor, but the unicorns would probably be able to walk away. We reached Siobhan and I stabbed down at her with my spear. She dodged it and aimed an arrow up at me at point-blank range. I grabbed her bow and yanked. She stabbed me in the leg with her arrow. I jolted back, not noticing I'd reflexively grabbed the unicorn's mane until it whinnied and reared. Siobhan's eyes went wide.

"Sean."

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female

The unicorn's hooved raised over my head, and the full weight of the animal started back down. I started to move, and I was halfway quick enough. The hooves missed my head and came pounding down on my chest, skimming down my sternum and crashing into my stomach. The air rushed out of me and I could tell from the vital pain that even if I ever stood up again, something inside me was ruptured.  
Laurel screamed, half in horror and half in determination. She clung to the unicorn's neck as it stomped and shied. Like most horses, it seemed not to want to hurt me, but it also had the instinct to prioritize its fragile legs and balance over anything in its way. It hooves smashed into me, from my shoulders to my hips as I tried to roll away and protect my head. It was perverse how something as graceful and innocent as a horse could feel like being beaten to death with a hammer.  
The horse screamed like I'd never heard a horse scream before, and its hooves hit the ground off to my side. Then Laurel screamed again.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male  
I felt something I'd never felt before when I saw Siobhan under the unicorn's hooves. My chest clenched, and I could feel the blood shooting out of my heart. I didn't even remember running toward her. When everything came into focus, I was looking down at the love of my life, blood dripping off my sword.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female  
The horse was moving so quickly and randomly I didn't even know where to look. I didn't see Cormac until the sword was blurring in front of me. I put my arm up to block my chest and head. There was a slicing, rending pain, and then I was falling. I landed on my back, jarring the air out of me so hard my lungs ached. My left arm was throbbing in pain and covered in blood. When I looked at it, there was a giant slash across my palm, and the first two fingers were gone.  
Cormac was mere feet from me. I didn't have time for pain. I got up and started running, blood flowing freely down my arm. I didn't look back. If Cormac was about to get to me, I didn't want to see it coming.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male  
I'd been trying to find an opening with Cormac when he suddenly split off. Before I could get the panicked unicorn turned around, he'd reached Laurel. Everything stopped for a moment, and I was sure I was too late and it was all over. But Laurel got up and started running. I'd have to go right by both of them to help her. Truth be told, I hadn't ever gotten withing fighting distance of either of them, not even during the first fight. I thought it would take ages for me to even consider it, but the second I saw what I needed to do, I did it. I aimed the unicorn straight at Cormac and Siobhan.  
After all that buildup, it didn't even matter. Cormac paid no attention to me as I galloped past him. He was going the other way, in fact- back toward Siobhan. I rode up beside Laurel and reached down, grabbing her uncut hand. I pulled as she climbed, and she slid onto the horse. When I saw how much blood she'd left smeared behind her, I made my first independent decision. The battle was over. We were getting out of here.

* * *

Siobhan Harrigan- District Two female  
Cormac threw himself to his knees beside me and started trying to pick me up, bridal-style.  
"We're gonna get you out of here. We'll get you fixed up," he said, heaving with exertion.  
I shuddered at the movement. My lungs seized, and I coughed. Blood spattered my face.  
"You have to win this," I said, blood flooding my mouth.

"No," Cormac said, his voice raw and reedy. "No, you're going to win."  
"He needs you," I said.  
"He needs you," Cormac said, and his voice cracked. I never wanted in all my life to see the expression on his face, or to hear the tiny whimpering noises he made as he cried. "Don't leave me. I love you."  
"I love you, too," I said. No matter how complicated we were, Cormac needed to hear that. "Take care of our son." I could feel my body trying to keep running when its insides were shredded so badly none of the systems connected anymore. "Take care of Sean."  
I rested my head on the crook of Cormac's shoulder. This was what he'd always wanted: us together, looking for all the world like we were cuddling. We could have had it if we hadn't chosen this. There was so much in life I regretted, from wasting my life on the Games to all the things I'd never experience with my son.  
"Take care of Sean," I said again. "Sean."

* * *

 **6th place: Siobhan Harrigan: Stomped by a unicorn**

 **Probably some bad juju shooting a unicorn, but what can you do? Siobhan and Cormac were a power pair, but they were also strong on their own. Thus they made it this far, even though they had the usual group of detractors death-voting them because they were Careers. Siobhan made some bad decisions, there's no way around it. But once they're made, no use attacking her for them. All she can do is make the best choice moving forward. She did everything she could to get back to her son, but... votes. Thanks JAJ for a woman who fought every step of the way to earn this and then fought just as hard to take it back.  
**

 **Siobhan had +3 when she died. There are just so few Tributes that you can have that many and still go down.**


	46. A Day No Tributes Would Die

**I forgot I was writing the fairy with a phonetic accent, so she dropped her Irish accent a chapter ago. She has now found it and put it back on.**

* * *

SIOBHAN HARRIGAN- Cormac Abrams  
I turned to cry in Siobhan's arms, and she wasn't there. She always scolded me when I was acting "soft", but the scolding didn't come. I looked at her face in the sky, remembering every part of it I'd kissed, and lost her all over again when it faded. My love for her poured out of me, and there was nowhere for it to go.

* * *

ASPASIA SOMMERS- Randy Mills  
When I heard the Anthem play, I rolled onto my stomach and hid my head under my arms. I couldn't look at her again. It was hard enough to hold myself together and put on a brave face for Laurel. I had so much experience faking how I felt, but this was just too much.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland- District Ten mentor

Osiris was... strange. I was still sad a kid died and all. Did it make me a bad person if I didn't feel guilty that he was gone? He basically killed Thunderous, and he wasn't the kind of person I'd want to see win it all. I didn't want him to _die._ I just didn't want him to _live._

* * *

Calvary Warsaw- District Ten mentor

We all thought Aspasia would be the last one standing in her alliance, maybe even in the Games. She had the intelligence and the charisma to lead, even if she didn't think so. She was a compassionate and selfless leader, more comfortable in the background but willing to step up if needed. She was exactly the kind of person the Capitol was safer without.

* * *

District Ten

Osiris was as missed as the dozens of other children lost to the Games. His former love lived the rest of his life never knowing to what extent he was the villain in someone else's story. Pericles doubled down in his efforts, determined to make Panem into what Aspasia knew it could be. And even the most reluctant givers pledged their support in the memory of the girl who did so much.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female  
I used to think it would get easier with every death, as Tributes started to think maybe they might live. It was so much harder. Every death ramped the pressure up, reminding me how much hope I was giving not to myself, but to my family. Leslie knew more than almost anyone gave her credit for, and if there was anything she was good at, it was numbers. If she missed me at all, and I thought she did, she knew what it all meant. I could imagine how agitated she must be, and how ragged poor Lara was.  
What must be the worst part of the Games is the steady, grinding toll. Never, not for any second of any day, was I not scared. Whatever I was doing, I knew at any second I might see Cormac bursting out of the foliage. It was only when I saw Siobhan in the sky that I didn't have to fear that I wouldn't even see the arrow coming before I was suddenly dead.  
When danger finally came, I neither saw it coming nor was taken by surprise. The hairs on my neck stood up when I sensed the smell in the air. It was a dry, dusky smell, like an old blanket. That on its own would have been fine, except for the metal odor of blood.  
I whipped around and threw up my hands, wondering if Cormac could cut them off in one sweep and dreading the sight of whatever made him smell like that. But instead of Cormac, an entirely different hunter looked back at me with its yellow eyes. The wolf's shoulder reached above my knees, and it was almost as long as I was tall.  
The wolf's chest heaved when it took in a breath. It opened its mouth, and its tongue poked out for a moment before its teeth clacked together.  
What do you in a wolf attack? I thought. That wasn't one of our worries in Three. I started backing away slowly, not looking the wolf in the eye. It stood deathly still for a few steps. Then, moving like a blur, it ran at me.  
I screamed before the wolf even hit me, and it was cut off when it jumped onto my chest, knocking my air out and tipping me onto my back, even though it wasn't as heavy as I expected. I saw its open jaws coming at my throat and jammed my arm into its mouth. Its teeth gouged into my arm as I pushed at the back of its throat, shoving it farther off me. It bit down and shook its head, ripping strips of skin and flesh from my arm.  
I'm going to die, I thought. Flashes of fairy-tales and scary stories crossed my mind, like a tribal memory of my species' fear of wolves. Then, between the images, my sister appeared, and terror hardened into will.  
 _I'm getting back to her._  
What had been a losing battle became a blur of mortal fighting. I grabbed the wolf's ear and yanked, twisting and pulling as hard as I could, until I felt the roots start to rip. The wolf whined and balked, pulling its head back. I curled my legs up and kicked it over and over in the stomach. Its dull claws poked into my sides as it bore down and snapped at my cheek. I shoved its snout aside, its face so close I felt its breath and drool on me. I curled my fingers into claws and ripped a chunk of the skin that hung from its snout, surprising myself with how easily I did it. I tried to flip it over, and when it was too strong for me, I climbed over its back, wrapping my arms around its neck. I grabbed both ears and leaned back, pulling them back and together with all my weight.  
The wolf went crazy, scrambling and flailing its legs as it made noises I'd never heard from a dog. All its energy was pointing away, not up, and I knew I had it beat. I loosed my grip and it tore away, wailing as it streaked out into the woods.  
I watched it go, panting and slick with blood. I'd done something I never in a million years would have thought myself capable of. I fought a wolf barehanded, and I won. That was what gave me hope. Not how many people I outlived, but how many I could outfight.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

"So, you were made by the Capitol," I asked the pixie.  
"I guess yeh could say that," she said, shrugging.  
"Well, weren't you?" I asked.  
"Maybe. Or maybe I've been around a long time, and I just came here because they made it look so much like my old home," the pixie said.  
"Are there more of you?" I asked.  
"Maybe. Maybe not," she said with a smile, acting less like a fairy and more like an imp.  
"Fine," I said, knowing that nothing would annoy her more than me not being annoyed by her.  
"Aren't yeh curious?" she asked. The glittering air around her turned an angry shade of yellow.  
"Excuse me, I'm thinking," I said, and I was. As fun as it was to have a compulsory friend, I had to keep my head in the Games. There were five people left. I had a twenty percent chance of winning, just by hard numbers. Taking into account all the specifics, I probably had a better chance. Odds were at least one of the survivors was wounded, which boosted my chances. Then there was the fact that I was a lot bigger than Lulu and a lot smarter than Randy, not that I could just assume I'd win. But then there was Cormac. All the probability I gained from the others, I lost and more from him. The plain fact was that no matter how much calculating I did, odds were he'd win.  
I had one thing going for me: Cormac was probably looking for Randy and Laurel. Together, they were his biggest competition left. They weren't much competition, but they were more dangerous than me or Lulu. I was mighty curious about what took down Siobhan, though. It had to have been a mutt. Probably a pixie who got mad when Siobhan did some pixie insult or something.  
Speaking of pixies…  
"Hey," I said to the pixie. "You have a name or what?"  
She narrowed her eyes. "Is this a trick? A name is a very powerful thing," she said.  
"My name's Jules," I said. "Jules. Jules. Jules. You see anything burst into flames?" I asked.  
The fairy sulked.  
"You don't have one, do you? Because you're not an ancient, mysterious creature born of a sunbeam and a breeze. You were made in a Capitol lab," I said.  
"Call me 'Shee'," the pixie said.  
"Shee?" I asked.  
"Shee," she confirmed. "S-I-T-H, Shee."

* * *

 **Actually no deaths this time. I wanted to get some character moments in before the next death, which has the votes already. Laurel and Randy got a sponsor gift, but I'm saving it for next chapter, since I wanted to highlight Jules and Lulu after all the battle excitement.**

 **Fun facts (not really fun at all actually): Lulu got pretty scratched up but isn't seriously injured.**

 **Fun facts II: My massive research, consisting of half an hour of Google, said that while there are many named Irish fairies, most Scottish ones are more generic. So I went with a personalized generic name of Sith, which is the general name for many types of fairy, like the Cu Sith, Baobhan Sith, and Bean Sith (or Sidhe, but that seemed to be more the Irish spelling)**


	47. Elphame

Laurel Pine- District Seven female  
The fire was so big. It wasn't really big at all- it was just a pile of sticks Randy managed to get lit after hours of trying- but it was so big. It looked a lot bigger when I knew what it was for.  
"Okay, I'm just gonna… do the thing, you know?" Randy asked, his voice shaking.  
Why are you shaking? I'm the one about to get barbecued. "Yeah, just do it," I said. I scrunched my eyes shut as Randy picked up a log. The last thing I saw was that he scrunched his shut, too.  
A rush of heat moved past my hand. That didn't hurt at all, I thought. I opened my eyes and saw Randy looking sheepish.  
"I missed," he said. I closed my eyes again, and he didn't miss.  
"AAAAAAAGHHHH!"  
I never wanted to think about it again. What I felt was something no one should feel, and I never wanted to talk about it again. I sat bent at the waist, holding my seared hand.  
"Are you okay?" Randy asked, tears streaming down his face. I had no idea how long it had really lasted, but even taking into account my altered state, it was at least a few seconds that he heard that sound from me and held the log in place. I wanted to tell him it was all right, but all I could do was whimper.  
Let's see the damage. I held my hand up. My first two fingers were gone, leaving me looking like some weird three-fingered alien. The stumps were burned over, all red and blistery. All in all, it could have been worse.  
"What do you think?" I asked Randy, holding up my hand and giggling and crying all together.  
"Your high-fiving days are over," he said, with a fervent expression so ludicrous I couldn't help but laugh.  
"Gimme a high-three," I said, and he actually did.  
"Ow! Bro, those are sensitive! I wasn't serious…"

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

I couldn't believe we really killed Siobhan. Laurel, really. Laurel's unicorn, really. But still… she was dead. Only Cormac was left. And I wasn't good at math or anything, but two was more than one.  
"I think one of us might actually win," I said, watching the sun set with Laurel. It seemed like weeks ago that Aspasia died. Just this morning we were about ready to die, we were so sad, but the second fight and then Laurel's fingers made it easier to pretend it was a long time ago. It was easier to pretend than to think about it. I knew eventually it would come back in, but I also knew how much easier it was if you just thought about nice things and kept the bad things away,  
"We have a forty percent chance, together," Laurel said.  
"That's a lot," I said. We looked at the sky together.  
A chiming noise distracted us. I looked up and saw the parachute coming down. It was pretty small, but sometimes good things come in small packages. Like Laurel. She's smaller than me, anyway. Most people are.  
"Candy!" Laurel said, snatching the bag of sweets out and ignoring the other gift. That was the one that caught my eye.  
"Yes!" I said, holding up the palette like a trophy.  
"What's that?" Laurel asked.  
"Eyeshadow!" I said.  
"Like the stylists used? Why would anyone send us that?" Laurel asked.  
"To look pretty!" I said. I opened up the palette and started applying some gold powder. "Here, try some."  
"I've never put on makeup before," Laurel said. I gasped.  
"That's so sad! Oh my goodness, I can teach you something!" I said. "Here, hold still." I held Laurel's head still while I swiped on a lovely blue shade.  
"See, it makes your eyes look bigger," I said as she looked in the mirror.  
"It does look pretty cool," Laurel said, batting her eyes. "But why?"  
"I guess it was probably cheap. And the candy, too," I said. "You should get used to it. You'll wear a lot of makeup when you win."  
"Maybe you'll win," Laurel said.  
"Me? How would I win?" I asked.  
"Randy, do you realize you are jacked?" Laurel asked.  
"I do work out a lot. My mamas like it," I said, looking at my arms.  
"You're buff," Laurel said. "You're way bigger than Cormac. If Cormac attacked us now, you'd win. He's not the frontrunner anymore. We can win this," Laurel said.  
"Wow, really?" I said, more to myself. I looked into the little mirror. I didn't look like a Victor. I looked like a pretty sugar baby wearing some killer makeup. _Me? A Victor?_ I guess… I still thought it would be Laurel. She thought I was stronger than I thought. I knew she was stronger than she thought, and a lot smarter, too. She was the perfect package. I was just… well, it's not nice for a man to talk about his package.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male'

Two days. It had been two days without her. She wasn't all I thought about, but she was most of what I thought about. I also thought about Sean, and how he'd never know the most amazing woman in the world. I thought about all I'd tell him, and how I wished I'd written more about her in my letters.  
Your mother was fierce, I'd tell him. She was a real warrior, even more than me. A lot more than me. Sometimes I think I only ever volunteered so I could have an excuse to be with her. But she was kind, too. When she held you, she treated you like the most valuable thing in the world. You are, of course, but she made it so obvious. The love I saw in her eyes was the only thing bigger than her bravery.  
I wanted Sean to know his mother. I'd show him pictures and videos every day, until he had a mental picture as real as any memory. I'd heard people could make false memories, and I thought in this case it was okay. If Sean could remember someone from when he was a little baby, even if it wasn't real, it was still a connection to her. I'd talk about her until he was sick of it, and then I'd talk some more.  
It was only because of Sean that I was hunting. I'd never been a real killer like Siobhan. I was weak, and I went soft when I saw the little kids begging me not to kill them. But I had to get back to him. I had to be twice the father I would have been, to make up for all Sean had to go without. That was why I was tracking the other Tributes, and when I found them, I'd show no mercy. I didn't really want to kill anyone, but my son needed me. Even for all the children in the world, I couldn't leave him an orphan.  
It wasn't hard to find the signs. People tried to be sneaky, but we were trained for this. We were trained not to need the easy signs, and to pick up on the things our quarries never thought about. Not far ahead of me, there was someone that stood between me and my son. As much as I valued his life, I valued Sean's more.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male  
"Hey, yeh might not need me much longer. One of yer friends is coming," Sith said.  
"What? What do you mean?" I demanded.  
"Someone's following us," she said. "A human, it smells like."  
I jumped up and looked around. "How close is he?" I asked.  
"Pretty close," she said. "He'll be here soon."  
She and I both knew it wasn't a friend. "He" could only mean two things, and if it was Randy, there would be two of them. Cormac was stalking me.  
"Thanks for telling me," I said. Annoying as she could be, Sith really cared.  
"It's not because I care about you. I just thought he smelled bad," she said. She didn't know the glitter around her turned pink every time she lied.  
I looked around for a weapon and found nothing but sticks. I picked up a big one, hopefully longer than his sword. My only chance was to keep him out of range.  
"He's coming from that way," Sith said, pointing. When I stood behind a tree, waiting to ambush Cormac, Sith started flying upwards. "I'm just gonna take a hike," she said. "No offense, but I've been around a long time, and I'm not about to get dusted because two humans were fighting."  
 _Talk about fair-weather friends_ , I thought, watching her go. _Well, what can you expect from a fairy?_

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male  
Whoever it was, they were in the clearing up ahead. It wasn't a bad place to hide, really. The shrubbery and thorns all around made it impossible to enter except through one narrow corridor. If my quarry had any idea I was coming, he'd know just where to ambush me. But I was moving silently, just like Siobhan kept trying to teach me.  
As I walked past a tree, a branch whipped out and whupped me upside the head. I fell on my backside, grunting.  
Jules ran at me, screaming and swinging a branch. I easily evaded him and got up. He stared at me in horror, almost dropping his pitiful weapon.  
"What? Did you think that was all it took? I'm a Career, pipsqueak. I can take a hit," I said. I drew back my sword. Jules turned tail and ran.  
I sighed and followed. They had to make this harder. Both of us wanted it over quick. I just wanted to get it done with and not hurt him. I caught up to him before he even left the clearing and grabbed the back of his shirt, throwing him down.  
"I'm sorry," I said. "But I want to go home, too." I raised my sword to strike one clean killing blow. I expected a final attempt, but I didn't expect Jules to c*** back a leg and kick me in the crotch. I saw it quick enough to tense, but not fast enough to avoid the strike. I shoved the vital pain aside and followed as Jules tried to scuttle away.  
"Just stop it," I said, my voice raw. I followed Jules as he crabwalked backwards. "I have to do this, okay? We have reasons, too." Jules grabbed at my leg, and I tore free and stepped on his chest. "Just… hold still. It's better that way."  
Jules' terrified face looked up at me, tears glistening. If it wasn't for Siobhan, I think I would have lost my nerve. He looked like a child. Like a little, helpless child, the kind of child I'd held and marveled at his innocence. But I wasn't innocent, and there was someone who needed me.  
"Don't look," I said as I prepared for the final blow. "Just close your eyes."  
I drew up my sword. The instant before I swung it down, there was a flash of light, as bright as the sun. It was so bright it stabbed into my eyes like a hail of bullets, driving my head back. I threw up one hand to protect my eyes and lashed the other out, knocking the light away. It was crazy, but I thought I heard the light gasp. It landed by my feet, and I picked up my foot and crushed it under my heel. Then a mortal pain punctured my chest, and I realized I'd lost everything.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six female  
 _"Just close your eyes."_  
I tensed, waiting for the killing pain that would end it all. Behind closed eyelids, I saw an increase of light that could only indicate I'd been killed and was about to enter the next life. I opened my eyes and saw Sith floating in front of me, waves of light pouring off of her. Cormac was reeling back under the onslaught. He put up a hand in front of his eyes and dropped the sword as he struck out downwards with the other. He struck Sith full force, her light faltering as she gasped. She bounced off the ground, and his foot raised up. I sat up, reaching out for her, but there was nothing I could do but watch. His shoe came down on her, and nothing could ever make me forget the wet, bursting sound when it hit.  
Something came over me, something I'd never known. With speed I'd never before had, I snatched the sword by his feet and stabbed upward. It took so much more force than I expected to cut through him. The sword didn't cut so much as it punched. Flesh and bone ground against the blade, giving way only reluctantly. Then he was looking down at me, looking like a man who had lost an entire world.

* * *

Cormac Abrams- District Two male  
"That's not fair."  
I looked down at Jules, still holding to the sword that stuck through me.  
"It isn't fair."  
I was stronger. I was the Career. I had him at my mercy, and I was striking the final blow. It wasn't fair that something interfered, something I never could have prepared for. Why was it fair that something blinded me at the last moment and didn't blind him? Why was it fair he stabbed me in the instant I couldn't see?  
I fell to my knees. Blood was pouring out of me, and I could feel the vital injuries inside me. I was torn all up, past anything surgeons could repair. There was metal sticking out of me on either side, all cold and sharp and painful.  
"I loved her," I said, as my strength faltered and I pitched to my side. "And I loved him."  
I looked up at Jules, who looked back at me uncomprehendingly. "I had a son."  
"I'm… sorry," Jules said.  
 _"I'm_ sorry," I said. Everything I'd promised to Siobhan had been taken from me. We swore. We swore we'd be there for our son. Now something out of nowhere had taken that. And Jules was standing up and leaving like he didn't even care. He left me alone, bleeding out into the grass.  
 _I should have stayed._ _I should have been there for my son._ _This was never the place for me. My place was with my family. Why didn't I see that? I was a fool._ Tears dropped into the grass, and I shook gently as I lay dying. _Forgive me._ My son had no parents. They left him behind for something worthless. He would live forever with that. We had something priceless, and we left it for something worthless. _I'm sorry. Forgive me._

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male  
I cried as soon as I saw her. Sith's wings were shattered, broken into pieces like a fly's wings after a child plucked them off. She was leaking light and glitter like blood, the light blinking and flickering as it came off her.  
I gathered her up in two hands. "Please be okay," I whispered. I could feel the coldness of the things leaking from her into my hands.  
"I told yeh," she said, and the lack of sarcasm in her voice made me shudder.  
"What?" I asked.  
"I was yer friend," she said, her voice fading with her light. "Was I?"  
"Yes! Yes, we're friends!" I said, shaking with each word.  
"I think a human is something wonderful to have as a friend," she said. I could feel her tiny cheek lying limp against my palm. Her wings flickered, and the last of the glitter fell from them.  
"Why did you do it?" I sobbed.  
Her light was ebbing, and it took all she had left to answer. "For no reason," she said. "No reason at all." Her light blinked, and it was gone. There was nothing in my hands but coldness, and stillness, and the quiet absence of light.

* * *

 **5th place: Cormac Abrams- stabbed by Jules**

 **This was a hard death. It was literally hard to plan, since his form asked for a non-mutt death from a worthy opponent. The only one left who could logically win was Randy, and I felt bad killing Cormac by ditz. So I did it by Jules, since I wanted the Sith thing, but it took some doing. The only way Jules could kill Cormac was by something totally unfair, like a sudden pixie blitz. So it was a total dick move that killed Cormac. He never could have prepared for that, and it's tragic a Career got killed by someone so far, frankly, beneath him. I went for tragedy since drama died with... honestly, there weren't many strong outliers. Demi, maybe? The votes came at a very bad time, cutting his mourning short and killing him by Jules. I did as much as I could with his last POV to give him what he deserved and show he could live on his own, but the votes cut short what I would have otherwise developed. Thanks JAJ for two killer Tributes and the instigators of pretty much everything, since they were the only killers who lived past the Bloodbath other than Penelope.  
**

 **Cormac died at -1. Not too much, but a lot relatively speaking.**

 **Also dead: Sith the pixie**

 **While it makes way more sense that she was in fact a Capitol creation, if you want to headcanon that pixies are real in Panem, I won't stop you. Sith was one of very few mutts to gain a mind of her own and live past her ingrained Capitol role. I usually don't do sentient mutts, so when I do, I better make them good! I had this planned for a while, and here it is. Rest in peace Sith, the bravest pixie we've ever seen. I heard somewhere that Irish accents are the hardest to imitate, which is why I only did phonetic dialect on a handful of words.  
**

 **TIMELINE: Cormac died in the afternoon of day fifteen in the Arena, making this Games faster than normal but not anything crazy.**

 **Final four! We're now down to two life and two death votes.**


	48. Stabby Stabby

CORMAC ABRAMS- Jules Maserati

I couldn't believe I killed a Career. It wasn't just me, of course. I never could have done it without Sith. It was a miracle, a freak chance from his point of view. It didn't make me the one to beat.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

 _Cormac's dead?_ We had a chance. All of us had a chance.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

 _It's a miracle._ The looming spectre of the Arena was gone. When the sun came up, I almost thought I might see more of them.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

 _There's something in the Arena strong enough to kill Cormac._

* * *

Avariella Hanson- District Two mentor

Pray was cursing and muttering about losing two of the best Tributes we'd seen in years to a "horny horse and a glitter bomb". She didn't even seem to be thinking about them as actual people. Siobhan and Cormac were lovers, and parents, and so much more. But then, maybe Pray didn't want her feelings known about what she might think about a child losing her parents.

* * *

District Two

Claire took Sean and gave him the best life she could. But she wasn't his mother, and she wasn't a father. Those were things no one could ever give him, and they would affect his life in every way. As he grew, Sean treasured Cormac's letters, the only fragment he had of the two most important people in his life.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

If I was going to get out of this, I was going to have to kill people. I'd been trying to avoid it, but I couldn't deny it any longer. I had to face the facts.

 _But how?_ Obviously, the biggest threats were Laurel and Randy, just because as far as I knew, they were still together. If they'd split up by now it would be easier, but I couldn't assume that. Laurel wouldn't be any harder to kill than anyone else, provided I could sneak up on her. It was Randy that was the real problem. He was twice my size, easily- his biceps were as big as my thighs.

Actually, it might be better for me if they _were_ still together. They seemed to be pretty close in the Capitol. If I could get to Laurel, Randy would be vulnerable.

 _That's horrible._ I couldn't believe I was thinking like that. I was acting like the villain from a cheap thriller novel. And it was a stupid plan anyway. What, I was going to hold Laurel hostage and tell Randy to kill himself? Stupid.

 _It's not that complicated. It's going to come down to who can pick where and when the fight starts and make the first move._

I was lucky I was even in one piece. I'd washed my arms in the fastest-moving water I could find and bandaged them with strips of my shirt, leaving me half-shirtless. So far they just felt sore and tight, but I'd be lucky if they didn't get infected. As cold as it was, that was all the more reason to move fast.

 _Which way did they go?_ I thought back to the Bloodbath, trying to remember which way Laurel and Randy went. I could barely remember which way _I_ went. Everything was hazy, like an unsettling dream. It made me uneasy to remember it, like a little kid sitting in a dark room. They probably weren't in the forest, at least. Their alliance was pretty big at first. They would have run across the Careers eventually, and more than just Aspasia would have died. Now that Cormac was gone, there wasn't as much to be afraid of. I could walk safely, or at least more safely.

When I reached the Cornucopia, I couldn't help but notice all the uneven, barren patches of dirt around it. I wondered at first if it might be gophers, but then I figured it out. Cormac and Siobhan hadn't been able to carry everything. They took what they could and buried the rest so they could get it later if they had to.

I scooped at the dirt with bare hands, thankful they hadn't packed it down very hard. I went slowly, not wanting to get tetanus from a pricked finger. I left the first two holes unfinished. The barely revealed mace and axe were too large for me to carry. When I found the little dagger, though, I I took it. It didn't shift the odds much, but the odds were against me even making it this far. Odds weren't everything.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

Never had I thought silence could be so sad. The entire forest seemed to be leached of both sound and color. There was no chattering, high-pitched voice, and no cloud of glitter around a glowing light. The magic had gone out of the Arena. It was just a place of death now.

The chiming bells made my heart hurt. I knew what it was. Nothing anyone could send me would replace what I lost. Even so, I felt a tiny glow of hope when I opened the package. Someone believed in me, and a sponsor gift could change the course of the Games.

The first thing that caught my eye was the plate of food. There was some sort of meat that I suspected was sheep, a mound of mashed potatoes, and what I thought I recognized as mashed turnips. It was warm and smelled like real food, not the twigs and berries I'd been eating. I should have saved some, but how do you really save mashed potatoes? Stuff them in your pockets? There was also a canteen of water with a strap, along with a dagger.

 _What a way to kill someone,_ I thought as I held it, remembering the way the sword didn't cut through Cormac so much as break him apart. The force and the feeling of his flesh resisting me made my stomach hurt. But it didn't stop me from taking the knife.

Not long after that, I heard someone walking through the forest. Whoever it was, they weren't sneaking, so they didn't seem to be on the hunt. I followed the noise and saw Lulu come into view in the distance. She saw me at the same time I saw her, and she stopped, standing beside a tree and peeking out.

 _How should I play this?_ She didn't run right away, so she must be at least open to the idea of coming closer. I could either move away or engage her. If we met up, maybe we could ally for a while and go after Randy and Laurel. But why would I trust her any more than them? I couldn't trust someone to risk her life fighting a common enemy when she could just as well run and let them get me. But either way, I wanted to know more.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

In the thin strip of woods between the far side of the Cornucopia and the hill, I still met someone.

"Hey," Jules called out. "What are you up to?"

"Trying to stay alive, I guess," I called back. Teaming up with Jules might be my best chance at getting to Randy and Laurel, but it was risky. I had no reason to trust him.

Jules walked a little closer, and I didn't run away. "Do you mind if I maybe come over?" he asked.

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess… it doesn't make much sense, really, but maybe we can help each other. Randy and Laurel are still together, as far as we know. Maybe we could take them together."

"And then we kill each other," I said.

"It's gonna happen eventually," Jules said. "At least the odds are fifty-fifty instead of one in four."

"I was thinking the same thing," I said. I stepped out from behind the tree and walked toward Jules. "Strange bedfellows, I guess."

* * *

Jules Maserati- Distrit Six male

 _This is the time to do it._

What was I going to do? Would I do it or not? Ever since the Capitol, my plan had been to make an ally late in the Games by getting close to them when they were vulnerable- say, like a girl who knew I might be her best chance. Then I was going to betray her. But I was starting to have second thoughts.

 _Maybe this isn't a good idea._ I ran through tactical considerations, trying to fool myself that it wasn't entirely an ethical dilemma. Having seen someone die, having felt what it was to cut the life out of someone, I wasn't sure I wanted to do that again. The dagger weighed heavily in my pocket, pressing against me as I debated.

 _You should do it now. Early, before she sees it coming._ Lulu was just about to reach me. A few more steps and she'd be close enough to stab. She wouldn't expect me to move so quick, without even making a plan. But it was different to plan and to do. Lulu looked so nervous, and I saw now what violence did to you.

 _She shouldn't have trusted me. It's her own fault._ I couldn't make myself believe it anymore. I'd always thought trust was something stupid, something that marked you out as an easy person to trick. That wasn't true. Trust was rare, and that was because it was fragile. What do we do to fragile things, like babies? We protect them, and we don't take advantage of their frailty.

"I'm going that way," Lulu said, pointing ahead. My hand went to my pocket. She walked past me, and pain bloomed in my side.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

I stuck the knife into Jules' side as I walked by, before he even thought to see it coming. He gasped, pulling away. I pulled the knife out and stuck it back in, stabbing over and over again as long as he stayed standing, until shallow wounds pockmarked his chest. He stumbled and fell to his knees, raising arms covered in slashes from where he'd tried to defend himself. As soon as he went to block one stab, there was another one somewhere else. He was slick with blood. It ran off him like streams as he fell.

My hand was covered in blood. I didn't miss the significance of it. I was sorry, really sorry, at what I had to do, but it couldn't stop me from doing it. I had to get back to Leslie. He couldn't get in the way. I needed to be the sole survivor, and to be the only survivor, everyone else had to be dead.

* * *

Jules Maserati- District Six male

Trust is fragile, just like the life leaking from my fragile body.

She _did it to_ me.

Irony, comeuppance, fatal flaw. The exact thing I had planned for someone else, happened to me. I was the one staring up at my killer, seeing the mistake I made by letting someone get close.

The raw, open flesh from dozens of stab wounds screamed at the air that hit it. Each breath stretched the wounds tight and yanked at the edges. It was just a sham to breathe, anyway. I was dying, and it wasn't because I wasn't breathing.

 _Fourth place._ It didn't seem real. All that talk about not thinking I'd make it his far, and when I got killed, I saw that all along I never thought anything but that I'd win. I'd been to dozens of Victory tours, but I'd never go to my own. I wondered how my mother would feel, setting a table and inviting in whoever won in my place. Had she gotten all my favorite foods ready, and imagined how she'd see her son again, safe and eating with her? All that was gone now. I tried to die bravely, so she wouldn't see my pain.

* * *

 **4th place: Jules Maserati- Stabbed by Lulu**

 **Interestingly, Jules' form said he would develop into a less willing killer and Lulu's said she would become more willing. That worked out! Not for Jules, though. I didn't think Jules would get this far, just because there were other Tributes who stood out more and had more colorful personalities. But he plodded through, largely because of Sith, I expect, but also on his own merits. We'll never know now if he would have stabbed Lulu (my money is that he would have, by forcing himself to do it before he lost his nerve and kind of just doing it). Anyway, thanks MRKenn for Jules, who was realistic enough to make a cold strategy and levelheaded enough to outlast a lot of physically stronger Tributes, and a pixie.  
**

 **Jules died at -3/5, counting the two guests who wanted him to live. I round up, so one more fifth would have made him 0. Don't worry, though- while it WAS reasonably close, that wouldn't have saved him. He stayed near the death zone pretty much the whole time, but had a few loyal fans and just enough wild cards to keep him alive. There was a flurry of votes just before I wrote this, but he ended up right back where he started at the end.**

 **TIMELINE: Jules died in the early evening of the seventeenth day in the Arena.**

 **Now that there's only three people left, we're in the final stage of voting! Just one vote now, for Victor.**


	49. Three Little Kittens

**I would have gone with the Agatha Christie original, but... yeah. And the censored version isn't much better. So I went with the cute kids book version I had, about ten little KITTENS, none of which died.**

* * *

JULES MASERATI- Lulu Chilcott

It was like there was a shell around my heart. I knew what I did to Jules was wrong, but it bounced off the shield and didn't reach the rest of me. Probably when I got home it would, or else it would be my last regret as I died.

* * *

Lancia Audren- District Six mentor

I would have thought the placings would be reversed. Demi had the athleticism and savviness to keep herself alive, while Jules came from a more sheltered family. But then, it came as a shock to a lot of people when I won.

* * *

District Six

The Victory feast wasn't held at the Maserati house, for obvious reasons. Whether or not the Gamemakers cared in the slightest for a mother's pain, they did care about the danger of assassination events. As much as Demi's friends wanted to think they were tough, they missed her deeply. It was two years before her girlfriend re-entered the dating world, and longer still before she found someone who could match up.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Seven

 _What are we going to do, Laurel? What are we going to do if we're the last two left?_

My math skills weren't that bad. I was aware of it, and I was choosing not to think about it. Laurel probably knew it from how I so forcefully talked about good things, like I could chase away the danger by refusing to admit it was there.

 _I don't think I can be the Victor, because I won't do it._ For the first Games, the Tributes wouldn't kill each other. They had to send Peacekeepers in. They mowed the Tributes down like grass. Half of them died that first day, and none of them by each others' hands. They'd have to do that again, and I wouldn't do it. But I didn't think Laurel would either. _No Victor, I guess. They're not gonna be happy._

Laurel was standing in the stream barefoot, splashing in the shallow water. It was dark, but there seemed to be a perpetual full moon, and it was definitely bigger than I remembered the moon being. I took off my shoes and waded next to her, happy to think about something other than our future. If neither of us would do it, neither of us would win. That meant both of us would be dead soon, so we should enjoy the river.

When we saw something moving in the water, both of us ran for it. We sat on the bank, sprawled and panting as we stared back at the water. The surface broke, and a little fat dog head looked back at us with round black eyes, as if to say "Excuse me. I was just swimming. I didn't think I'd scare you."

"Oh, it's a seal!" I said, crawling toward the water's edge as three more heads popped up.

"Nu-uh!" Laurel yelled, throwing my her in front of me. "I've read enough stories to know where this is going. "Those are selkies! They look cute, but then they turn into handsome men and seduce you and you go after them and you drown."

"They're not going to turn into handsome men and seduce us," I said confidently, not scared at all by the faint glow of the water around them.

"How do you know?" She asked.

"They know it's useless," I said. I stretched my chest back and flexed my arms. "We already have a handsome man."

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

"I should have let them eat you."

Randy was grinning like an idiot, stretched out like a bodybuilder. He struck another pose as I looked back at the selkies. They certainly were selkies- I didn't trust the Capitol one bit- but they hadn't tried anything yet. They were just swimming in the deeper middle of the river, making graceful circles and tumbling underwater. The river glowed a faint blue around them, following them like ghostly tails.

"They're kind of pretty," I said. Randy crouched next to me, and their light reflected in his eyes, little dancing dots of blue. I'd heard stories about selkies taking humans as wives or husbands. Usually it ended sadly, but sometimes it worked out. Either the selkie gave up its skin, or the human found a way to turn into one of them. I wasn't sure how one ended up attracted to a seal, but I saw the appeal of turning and rolling underwater like they did, without a care in the world.

"I think we're both going to die," I said to Randy, but it wasn't despairing. "But I think… of all the Games in the world, this is the best to die in. I rode a unicorn, I met selkies, I made some inventions that actually worked, and I made friends."

"I thought all that mattered was being a pretty face, but you never cared about that," Randy said. "I think I might have had a lot more to give to the world. It's too bad I won't, but I'm glad I found out."

"You think selkies like berries?" I wondered, digging into our bags.

"It would be so messed up if they turn out to be poisonous," Randy said.

"That's terrible," I said, tossing a handful into the water. They left little luminescent ripples as they hit, and the selkies circled around them. One of them darted underwater, and I knew our offerings were accepted.

A selkie swam up to the water's edge, looking me right in the eye. I tossed it a berry and it neatly scooped it from the water. They were such beautiful things. I wished we could watch them forever. Ever since we came into the Arena, I'd felt like I'd found out fairyland was real, and I was in it. It was far better than the real world. Even with the killing, it was better than Panem. There was magic here, the kind of magic I'd always hoped was real and never gave up looking for in the real world. I'd always hoped to find a fairy in the woods, or a gnome living in a stump. Here, I crouched by a river, watching selkies swim under the moon. It was a precious gift that I got to be part of this.

The selkies slid through the water beside us, and I didn't feel like I was intruding so much as I felt welcome.

* * *

Lulu Chilcott- District Three female

It was Laurel and Randy's Games to lose. Unless they made a mistake or got targeted by mutts, there wasn't much hope for me. While I was looking for them, trying to find out where they were so I could hide and make a plan, they were probably looking for me, and they had no need to be discreet.

In school, a lot of pre-Dark Days books were banned, but we were actually required to read Lord of the Flies. It was all about how people will act like animals unless there's a strong government in place to keep them human. We had to write essays about it and everything. I thought it was good and all, but only now did I know how brutally true it was. We'd been in the Arena for three weeks, and we were animals. We killed each other without hesitating, it entirely animalistic ways. Or maybe it was just me, and I was projecting on the others. But I'd seen the tapes. I saw what Enobaria did, and Titus before her. Some of us were animals even in society, like her, and the others hid it only just beneath the surface.

It was just as strange to know that if I got home, Leslie wouldn't treat me any differently. She knew right from wrong, but that was just it. She knew it. She didn't feel it. She wouldn't feel shame or disgust or judgement when I came home. She would know I did something wrong, but in her world, doing something wrong just meant punishment. Then everything went back to normal.

Back to normal. I would be a person again, with no trace of the Games but the scars and the memories. I would sleep in a bed and eat cooked food and never kill anyone again. It would be a terrible loneliness to live among people who had never seen that stick sharpened on both ends and never spoken to the head impaled on it.

A light flickered on in a tree above me. I jumped back, watching it nervously. It lowered slowly, and I knew then that it was a mutt. I backed away, but it didn't follow. It hovered in the same spot, then moved a few feet back and returned, like a beckoning hand.

I don't think so, I thought. I was not going to get suckered in by some horrible mutt. I would go back over and it would burn me up or something. Or maybe… I'd heard of Games where Tributes were far apart and the Gamemakeres led them together. Maybe this was just them trying to speed things up.

I covered half the distance between me and the light, stopping there and ready to run. The light moved away, stopping another twenty feet further. I followed again, maintaining the distance in case it tried anything.

Looking ahead, I could see the light was moving toward a hill. Okay, not unreasonable, I thought. Laurel and Randy weren't in the woods, so it made sense they might be hiding on the other side of the hill. Or maybe it wanted to trick me into falling off a cliff in the fading evening light. I would have to keep a sharp eye on my footing… and the light.

The light stopped in front of a cave, its light dimming as it slipped inside. I stopped in my tracks.

"Oh, no," I said, looking at the pitch-black cave with who knows what inside it. "I am not going in there. Find someone else to get killed."

I was twenty feet from the mouth of the cave. I started backing away, keeping an eye on the light. It made no move to follow me. My eyes went sideways, looking at the darkness, and it was then that I saw the two black eyes reflecting two dots of light.

I didn't know what it was that chased me. I didn't look back as I ran. I heard the crashing footsteps that told me its size, and then the bestial growl that gave it away. It wasn't a monster that lived in the cave. It was a bear.

When the last moment came and I knew the animal had overtaken me, some instinct impelled me to turn around and face it head-on. The bear hit me like a truck, knocking me into the air. It was on me as soon as I hit, hot breath blasting me in the face as a paw came down on my hip, crushing it into the dirt. I stabbed it in the leg and throat with futile jabs, the knife swallowed up by its fur and fat.

The bear brought up its arm and slashed down across my chest. The force was enough to slice its blunt claws into me like I was butter. They sank into me until the width of the claw was stopped by the distance between my ribs. The paw came away easily, flaying my chest open with strings hanging from the claws.

I went limp, staring dumbly at the bear as my ruined body tried to figure out what to heal first. There was no pain, just the pressure of the bear's weight on me. It bit my arm, and I was aware of teeth hitting teeth.

I knew my sister lived me. Leslie loved in her own way, as real as anyone else. And I was thankful for that, because her kind of love would let her go on, remembering me but feeling far less pain than someone not like her. She was shielded from that, like I was shielded from the pain of the bear. I knew what was coming when its jaws closed around the top of my head. My skull collapsed like a crushed can, but I didn't feel a thing.

* * *

 **3rd place: Lulu Chilcott- Mauled by a bear, with an assist from a Will-O-The-Wisp**

 **Lulu snuck through this thing, keeping herself clear until this far into the Games. She actually only got attacked by the wolf because I saw the voting trends around the final five and made sure to give both her and Jules one last big moment to make sure I'd given them every chance to win. It DID boost Lulu's votes a lot, which is why she got third. In the end, she had supporters, but just not enough. Lulu had a good reason to get home and was willing to undergo the change it takes to become a Victor. The votes didn't go her way, but Jules and that wolf learned what she's capable of. Thanks Tracelynn for someone willing to actually hurt people to win, like you pretty much have to in the Games.**

 **Okay I know Will-O-The-Wisps are mostly thought of as Irish, but they're in a lot of countries' folklore, including Scotland. But then most of you probably know that, since Brave was kind of famous. Fun fact there's also a Spiderman villain called Will-O-The-Wisp**

 **I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to vote, so the finale will probably come tomorrow. There might still be a filler chapter tonight though.**


	50. Mortality

Gidget Ford- District Three mentor

We had similar motivations, but Lulu went down a different path than I did. I didn't fault her for it- love is more aggressive and forceful than many people think. Had I been in the same situation, I didn't think I would have acted differently. People thought I was a sweet, happy-go-lucky mom. That was because I'd never had need to be otherwise.

* * *

District Three

Only one good thing came out of Barnaby's death. Everyone was broken up about losing him, but he didn't live to have his own heart broken when the object of his culinary affections got a girlfriend in seventh grade. As Lulu thought, Leslie turned out to be uniquely suited to losing a sister. After she adjusted to the initial departure, Leslie kept her feelings to herself, as she always did. But she never failed to react to pictures of Lulu, even though she rarely recognized her own next-door neighbors.

* * *

LULU CHILCOTT- Laurel Pine

At the sound of the cannon, Randy and I looked at each other. We both smiled, and his was as scared as mine was sad.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

"Let's just let them take care of it."

I knew what Laurel meant. The Games had to end. The Gamemakers would send something to kill one of us. Maybe both of us, if they were really mad we weren't fighting.

Laurel opened her arms and came at me in a hug, her head barely at my shoulders. I hugged her back and somewhere in that hug, I realized what she was saying. She was so sure I wouldn't hurt her that she willingly put herself in arm's reach. It had never been a consideration that either of us would hurt the other. It was also something braver than I would have done. I wasn't big on politics, but it seemed like the Capitol might not want to hear someone telling them we weren't going to fight.

Laurel felt so tiny in my arms. I could have crushed her like a soda can, and knowing I could was exactly why I didn't. Being bigger than someone was a responsibility. It meant you should help them when they needed it, and always protect them, because they were littler. I couldn't protect Laurel from the Capitol, just like I couldn't protect myself.

"How long do you think they'll give us?" I asked once we'd broken apart.

Laurel shrugged. "Anything you always wanted to do before you died?"

"I always wanted to see a real zebra," I said. "Guess that one sailed."

"I always wanted to eat an entire pie all at once," Laurel said. "It's probably for the best that I never got to do that."

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

This was it. Any minute now, the Capitol would unleash some horrible mutt or set the Arena on fire. It was serenely quiet for the minute, and we were both aware how portentous that was, though Randy probably wouldn't have used that word.

"Not a bad place to die in," I said as we lay on our backs by the river, unicorns grazing around us. I got up and petted the one I'd been riding.

"We never gave them names," I said.

"How about Bob?" Randy asked.

It was so stupid I snort-laughed. "Bob the unicorn," I said. "I think they're not supposed to have names."

"They probably have names but we don't speak unicorn," Randy said.

"I read a book about a unicorn once. Her name was Amalthea," I said.

"I had the coolest picture book about a unicorn when I was little,"Randy said. "Her name was Star and she saved all the other unicorns from the dragons, but the dragons had actually been cursed and really they were all friends," Randy said.

"That sounds a bit cooler," I admitted.

"And her mom turned into a house with no doors to try to keep her safe," Randy said.

 _I bet our moms wish they could have done that for us._

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

Laurel and I sat on the hillside, watching the sun rise as we twisted purple flowers into crowns. We'd had one full day of no monsters and another one was about to end. It was like the world's most messed-up vacation.

" _You're_ the Victor," I said, putting my crown on Laurel.

"No _you're_ the Victor," she said, putting hers on mine.

"No you," I said.

"No you."

"No you."

"You know what would be really messed up?" Laurel asked as we lay on our backs, looking at the stars.

"What?" I asked.

"If they played the Anthem and Titian's face showed up like a feast, but instead he told us both to pick a number between one and ten and whoever was farther got struck by lightning," Laurel said.

"Or if he went 'eeny-meeny-miney-mo' while pointing at us," I said.

"Then again, this is Titian. He'd made it _way_ scarier, like setting up some complicated trap intended to test us."

"I would totally mess it up until he got frustrated and killed me," I said. "Hey, does it feel hot tonight or is it just me?"

"No, it's definitely hot," Laurel said.

"You think they're gonna heat it up until we get cooked?" I asked.

"No," Laurel said. "I'm pretty sure we're both sick. I've thought it for a while. I'm sore, too, like I actually worked out. I just didn't mention it, because we knew it was coming."

"Like the flu or something, but worse?" I asked, hoping I wasn't going to spend the rest day puking myself to death. I wished they'd send a disease that tickled you to death or something.

"Guess this is our last chance to chose," Laurel said. "But I don't think that's even worth mentioning."

"If we were going to choose, it should be you," I said. "You deserve it more."

"You think you're so dumb, but that's the only dumb thing you ever say," Laurel said.

"Don't you want to win?" I asked. I wished Laurel would be more passionate about all this. We were about to die. The world could go on without me, but she had so much to give.

"Don't _you?"_ she asked.

"Honestly… I'm not even that sad. I'm scared about being in pain, but death is hard for me to think about. I don't think it will seem real until I'm already dead."

"For me, it's just logic. Staying alive isn't worth killing someone to me, at least not unless they attack me first. And suppose I win and the next day I choke on a chicken leg? And maybe they _will_ pick me. I'm just gonna ride it out. I'm sure I'll be scared at the end, but that's life."

* * *

 **BONUS CHAPTER before the finale because I wanted this one to be dragged out like when Bambi spent three days looking for Tariq, who was... literally occupied. No need to vote again unless you're changing your vote.  
**


	51. Child of Lir

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

"I feel like I got hammered last night," Randy said.

"I, being a good girl, didn't partake of the devil's juice before I was of age," I said, laying a hand on my chest.

"I am of age," Randy said.

"Oh yeah, you're old," I said. "But yeah, I have a splitting headache."

"Maybe they sent brain worms that will burst out our noses," Randy said.

"You seem weirdly excited about this," I said.

"That would be metal to have on my gravestone," Randy said. Like a sudden drop in pressure signaling a coming storm, the levity went out of the air. Randy looked away, pretending to be interested in something.

"We should probably make our wills," I said. "Just in case, you know, brain worms come out our noses."

"Don't you need a lawyer?" Randy asked.

"It can be sort of a common-law will," I said. "At least we have plenty of witnesses."

"I don't even know where to start," Randy said.

"I'll give it a try," I said. "I, Laurel Pine, want pretty much all my stuff to go to my parents, to do whatever they want with. They can keep the stuff they want for memories or whatever and sell the rest to fix up the house or send Willow to extra school. And I want Willow to have all my music box because she really likes it," I added. "There, done."

Randy considered, his hand on his chin. "Take like half my stuff and give it to my parents, if they want it. Give the other half to homeless kids. Except my hoodie with the dog on it, since Narcissa borrowed that like a year ago and I don't think she's giving it back."

"Hey, check this out," I said, holding out my arm to show Randy the black spot on it.

"I hope this isn't one of those diseases that takes forever," Randy said.

"I already feel pretty bad," I said. My chest caught, and for the first time, I realized how close to death we were. How close I was.

Randy nervously laughed, and it turned into a cough. "Oh, ew. That's not supposed to be that color," he said, wiping his hand on the grass.

I coughed a little in my throat and tasted blood on my tongue. I was glad we'd done all that frolicking over the last two days, because I was ready to sit a while and relax.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

Did diseases take longer if you were bigger? Because I felt like garbage, too. I felt as bad as Laurel looked.

It was hard to breathe. When I tried to take in air, it got caught, like my lungs were clogged. They probably were clogged, since I kept coughing up gunk. It was weird to feel so weak. I couldn't remember ever feeling like if I wanted to run a mile or climb a tree, I couldn't just do it. It was like my own body was betraying me. For the first time, I knew there were things my body couldn't do.

Is this what it's like to be old? Everyone my age things it's better to die strong than get old and weak. Being near death made you think differently, but they were also kind of right. I didn't want to feel like this all day. All those old people I'd seen who couldn't even sit up… they used to be like me. They used to trust that their bodies could do things.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

I breathed in, feeling the air come into me again. I didn't know how many I had left. Adults liked to say every breath was a blessing and cheesy things like that. Now that every breath was undependable, I did appreciate them more. Being this sick made me see how I was very much made up of organs and tissues, all doing their jobs the best they could. My lungs were trying to keep bringing in air, and the rest of my body was so thankful when oxygen hit it.

Randy was sleeping. Or maybe he was dead- I wasn't really sure. His cannon hadn't gone off, at least not that I knew of. Maybe I'd just missed it. I was feeling a bit out of it, much like Randy looked. Before I'd been going from chills to fevers and back. They seemed to have balanced out somewhat. I felt like I was going up instead of in. I was detached, like I was getting pretty close to death and my soul was getting ready to go.

I caught my breath for a while, and I relaxed. It was dark- even I could tell that- and we were both pretty tired.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

A light tapping on my arm woke me up. I was surprised I felt it at all, but as soon as I opened my eyes, energy jolted through me. Laurel was lying beside me, jerking oddly and making horrible gasping noises. I sat up sharply, forgetting entirely how tired I was.

"Laurel!" I pleaded, shaking her. "Wake up!"

She wheezed, and I wasn't sure if any air got into her. What do I do? Laurel would have known how to do CPR. I just tried to open her mouth wider and lightly smacked her cheeks. There was a dry rattling noise, and she sucked in breath, opening her eyes.

"I thought you were gonna die," I said, and all the tears came bubbling out.

"I'm okay," she whispered, even more hollow-sounding than me.

My arms, which had been propping me up, lost their strength. I fell almost over her, only just managing to move to the side.

"I think you're dying, too," she said. I could breathe, sure, but my heart was flopping and beating all sideways and weird. My arms were covered in black splotches, and I couldn't see out of one eye. If Laurel did that again, I didn't think I could help her. I wasn't sure I'd be alive to see it.

* * *

Laurel Pine- District Seven female

Neither of us had much longer. I could only see Randy, and he didn't look good. He was lying facedown, and the grass around him was flecked with the blood he kept coughing up. I wondered if he'd used the last of his strength helping me and knew that was just the way he would have wanted it. His skin was an ashy gray, and it was beaded with sweat. One way or another, I was ready for it to be over.

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine male

I opened my eyes. Somewhere in the night, I'd rolled onto my back. I lifted my head an inch, trying to see Laurel.

She was lying a few feet ahead of me, closer to the river. The dirt behind her was turned up. I crawled after her, dragging myself inches at a time. Her face was turned to the side, resting on the grass with hair strewn across it. I managed to smile when I saw she was alive.

"I'm so thirsty," she whispered. She started to cry.

I thought I'd used up all my strength, but I was wrong. Seeing Laurel cry sent warmth and life flooding down through me. I raised myself on one arm and wrapped the other under her shoulders.

"I've got you," I said. I crawled toward the water, Laurel hanging limp under me. It wasn't hard at all, not really, even when things pulled loose inside me. Laurel needed me.

Laurel dug her fingers into the mud, tugging herself into the water. She slid into the shallows up to her shoulders, smiling. "It's so cold," she said.

The water was cool on my sore, burning skin. The water rippled as Laurel breathed, unable to lift her head fully out of the water.

In the corner of my eyes, I saw a glow. Five pale-blue dots came toward us, and then the sound of seals calling. I craned my neck to see them. The selkies formed a half-circle, their eyes peering out of the darkness. Water rippled around them, tickling my face. Laurel smiled with me.

Laurel wiggled, pushing herself farther into the water. She was half-submerged now, almost far enough to be pulled away by the current. She fell still, and her eyelids fluttered.

"You're my best friend," I said tiredly, my throat closing.

"You, too," she said. "What a place to die." Her eyes reflected the selkie's lights as they closed.

She was trying to get to them, I thought. What a place to die: winding down the river, with the selkies and out of reach of the Capitol. My arm was thrown across her. With what was finally the last of my strength, I nudged her in. Her clothes billowed out as the water took hold. She slid under the surface and didn't reappear.

The surface danced as the selkies ducked underwater. They reappeared downstream, swimming into the night. The cannon must have sounded, and the Anthem must have played, but I didn't hear it. The river lapped against my cheek, and I knew something no one could take from me. No one would believe a half-dead, brokenhearted Victor, but I knew what I saw. Five selkies swam up to us, and six swam away.

* * *

 **2nd place: Laurel Pine- Black Death**

 **I'm not SAYING she turned into a selkie, but...**

 **I feel like acknowledgement must be made to Silver for making two characters so popular they both dominated a voting Games all the way through. Laurel and Randy were by far the frontrunners from the Bloodbath and never faltered (the only one to come close was Cormac). I expected initial popularity and then a gradual tapering, since they were lighthearted and not too skilled. But NO, they persevered! Maybe it was their friendship, or their old-fashioned doggedness, but here we are. About two chapters ago, I saw the writing on the wall and started setting this up. About six chapters ago it was pretty clear one would win, so I started setting them up to be worthy Victors with development and such (the same time I made last-ditch boosts for the other three). When I was pretty sure it was Randy, I set this up for Laurel. While there are plenty of Scottish stories of humans turning into animals (mostly selkies, actually), I did cheat a bit, because my main inspiration was the IRISH story Children of Lir, in which the sons were turned into swans. I also utilized the classic fairytale element of the heroine helping a passing animal (feeding a selkie) and later being rewarded by that same animal (that's mostly German stories in my experience, but a fairytale is a fairytale. So good job, Silver. The voting Games are always this close, but never before between the same submitter. It was the best way to turn this unavoidably heartbreaking final two into something good.  
**

 **Lest there be charges of nepotism (I AM human, so I'm not saying I'm totally innocent), there's precedent for this. Hailey Falkenrath explicitly turned into a phoenix in the first Resurrection Games, and I wink-winked that Elara is now a poltergeist haunting her graveyard with her poltergeist mutt friend. I do occasionally get weird. This is sort of a magical realism universe. Since Laurel was so massively popular, the votes were so close, and it fit the Arena, I went for it.**

 **Laurel averaged around +5 from the Bloodbath. At the final count, she had four votes for Victor, plus like 3/5 from guests.**

 **Victor: Randy Mills, District Nine**

 **Looking at the Tributes, who would you have thought? One of the pair from Two, both likeable and competent, with a kid at home? Maybe the streetsmart daredevil from Six? The prim and subtle poisoner? Or... Patrick Star the sugar baby? And yet, here we are. Randy was also massively popular all the way through. He and Laurel switched places in first multiple times, but Randy had the spot slightly more often. It was super close at the end, and as is practically traditional, it was two votes that decided it. We were deadlocked until I had to pause before the last couple POVs in this chapter to solicit last-minute votes. Silver and I both ended up not affecting the tally, even though she said I could vote. We both would have voted Randy, btw. What got Randy through was that he's genuinely a good guy. He's the purest, sweetest Victor since Nubu, another huge fan favorite. So many people value intelligence in a Tribute more than anything else, but Randy shamelessly wasn't smart and did his best with what he had. He had vulnerabilities, and insecurities, and feelings. I'm super stoked he won, because he's both a great example of getting past sexual trauma as a man (which happened organically- it wasn't in his form) and he's a wonderful example of non-toxic, healthy masculinity. He's big, he's buff, and he likes makeup and pretty things. He's just a guy. Not "manly", not "girly", because both those things are entirely arbitrary and have no meaning whatsoever. He's just plain a good guy. I'm glad it went this way. And I'm glad Silver got a Victor! Even though I'd killed her enough by now that I considered her Tributes equally eligible, it never happened yet and no one can complain this time, because you all made it happen!  
**

 **Randy averaged around +5-6 throughout the story. At the final count, he had 6 Victor votes, plus like 3/5 from guests.**

 **(Had the votes gone the other way, I was fully prepared to have Randy be the selkie. He's already a hot guy, so... but it did work better for Laurel, so while the votes would have worked either way, I think this was the better outcome)**

 **A few cleanup chapters and then the next one will start! It's sort of unconventional, so don't get all fired up yet.**

 **Fun fact: I picked Black Death because there were a few outbreaks of that in Scotland. I would have gone with smallpox, but from what I read, there was never a real epidemic of that, just the normal amount.**


	52. Coronation

Randy Mills- Victor

The water was soft against me. My arms surged through it, feeling blindly for something soft and warm and about to be torn away by the river, but there was nothing but empty space. I raised myself on my arms, launching deeper into the water.

The water fell off me, and I was cold. I opened my eyes and saw blank white walls and the colorless blanket that had fallen off the bed as I moved. My arms, still thrown out and grasping, settled onto the bed.

 _She's not here._

The Capitol made its choice. Maybe they wanted someone dumb like me over someone like Laurel that could give them a fight, or maybe it was just meaningless chance. I felt at the soft creases in the mattress under me, looking at the emptiness of the room. Every moment of the Games replayed, from when I first met Laurel in the Capitol to what I saw before the hovercraft came. They were moments the recap couldn't capture and the audience wouldn't understand. With Laurel gone, I was the only one if the world who knew that story.

It wasn't long after that when Nassor came in, which was kind of creepy, since it had to mean there were cameras on me. He sat in the chair by the bed, almost smiling in a sad way.

"It's weird," he said, and I remembered he'd been in the same place once.

"They're going to want me to smile and party and go out there," I said. "It's too soon. Can't they let me think for a while?"

"The Capitol is built on people not thinking," Nassor said. "These are the things Victors have to seal inside and hide away. Victors are fake, painted faces, just like the Capitol admires."

"I can't ever go back. There's gonna be a hole forever," I said, after a long pause. When a tear rolled down my cheek, I could feel the difference in the shape of my face. There was space that hadn't been there before, and the flesh where there had been nothing. It made me feel weird to imagine someone reshaping my body, putting things in and taking them out. I should have wanted to see myself, I guess, but I didn't have any heart.

"Are you happy at all?" Nassor asked. "You won the Games."

"I guess I'll be happy someday," I said. I did feel a heavy relief- a sense that all the bad stuff I'd constantly been in fear of was over, even if that meant going through exactly what I had been afraid of. When I breathed out, it seemed deeper, like I'd been wearing a girdle in the Arena and just now took it off.

"I suppose you're good at looking bubbly, aren't you?" Nassor said, and there was some realness in his smile. "Good thing you have practice."

* * *

When I entered the styling room, I got the biggest, realest smile. It was just such a happy room. There were bright colors everywhere, and flashing sparkles on the Capitol clothes, and the smell of blush powder and lipstick. It was all the things that just made me happy.

The stylists, rainbow-lipped and glitter-eyed, all shrieked and circled around me when I stepped in. I actually cried a little when I saw Baste, and it came out a happy sob.

"Randyyyyy!" she yelled, and I knew that for the next few hours, I wouldn't have to worry about questions and memories and hard things. I would just be happy faces and giggles and getting ready to look fancy. "You look hot!"

It was during the makeover that I first saw my new face. I had to laugh when I saw how little they'd changed. I really was too handsome for the selkies. They made my cheekbones a little higher, and made my skin shinier under the lights, and made my eyes frosty blue. Other than that, I was still me. Baste tutted over me, combing my hair and running her fingers through it, and for the first time, I was happy I'd won.

* * *

"When we first saw you, we knew you'd be a contender," Caesar said, looking at my arms bulging out of the tight, sleeveless suit they had me in. "But you hardly ever used your strength, really."

"What got me through the Games was my friends," I said. I pushed aside what was really the truth. I wouldn't be able to get through that answer, so I gave Caesar a watered-down one. "I was really lucky to meet such great allies. I couldn't have done this without any of them."

"I'm sure you'll be happy to see them again!" Caesar said, and the recap started. It seemed like a really short interview, and I wondered if he was trying to make sure we didn't talk about the last few days. I definitely didn't mean to be rebellious, but it might have looked like it.

My heart ached watching the recap. Every time Laurel came onscreen, she was smiling or laughing. I wanted the video to last forever, looping her like that without end. And when it was over, I was weirdly happy. Whenever I wanted, I could turn that tape on, and there she would be, smiling at me.

I knew it was coming. It was exactly what Laurel would have planned, if she had been here. When President Snow came down the walkway, I knew what would be on that pillow. I didn't know much about history, but I knew that for the first few years of the Games, all the crowns looked the same. They looked just like the one I was about to wear. I guess they were historical or something. They were all golden circles, molded to look like laurel leaves.

* * *

 **Like two more chapters and then we begin anew!**


	53. Initiation

Randy Mills- Victor

 _Maybe I'm wasting this whole Victor thing,_ I thought as I laid on my bed eating the room service I'd ordered. That was basically the extent of my activity in the two days since I'd won. I slept super late, rolled out of bed to order food, and climbed back into bed to eat and watch shows on the wall television. But each time I thought about doing more, I remembered I didn't _want_ to do more. After the stress and movement and hungriness of the Arena, I really just wanted to relax.

 _I'm the Victor. I can do whatever I want,_ I told myself. I could take the time I needed. And it _would_ take time. I'd been through something big, and I wouldn't be the same for the rest of my life. I couldn't expect to feel the same after two days.

There was a knock on the door. I got out of bed, muttering to myself, and opened it a crack. Nassor was there, along with every other Victor I could remember and some others.

"Hi! Can we come in?" he asked.

I wasn't really mad anymore. Maybe it was weird, but I liked having lots of people around. They made it easier to not think about the Arena. It felt like it was normal to talk and laugh again.

"You brought everyone," I said, as everyone came in. Everyone from Loki from last year to Orchard, who I recognized from the history textbook I barely read in third grade. They squeezed into the lounge, filling every couch and chair.

"It's tradition," Nassor said. "Every year we all come out to welcome the new Victor and show they're part of the family now."

"You get to pick what we do," one of the Victors from One said. "Pick something good, unlike Sky." The woman who must have been Sky stuck her tongue out.

"So what do you want to do?" Nassor asked. Normally it would have taken forever for me to think of something with that many choices, but I knew right away.

"Makeovers," I said.

Fifty-four Victors poured into the styling room, surprising Baste, who was counting supplies.

"Hi, can we do makeovers in here?" I asked.

"Always!" she crowed, throwing her arms wide behind her. "Can I do them with you?"

"Always!" I said.

For the first time, I wasn't the dumbest person in the room. Some of the Victors couldn't tell blush from foundation. I caught Pray using an eyelash pencil on her lips. Some of them, like most of the Careers, knew what they were doing. Some of the others... needed a little help.

I used spray-dye on my hair, turning it platinum blonde. I painted on blue nail polish, helping Hlenn turn her nails midnight purple after. She smiled at me after, and I had to smile back at the solid black contact lenses she was wearing. She looked like a penguin peeking at me. Hyden and Azure fought over tubes of roll-on glitter, marking each other up like two wildcats. Rhoda bustled around helping the others, screaming and snatching a lipstick tube from Mars when he put the top on without sliding it down, smashing the lipstick. Ava stood by a mirror painting contouring lines onto her face to make herself look thinner.

"What about Labyrinth?" Hades asked, pointing at Bambi's black poodle. Like grandmothers on a new baby, we set upon him. Soon his fur was pale pink and he had a blue bow tie around his collar, plus sparkling green nails.

In between all the laughter and craziness, there was a quiet joy in me when I was brushing makeup onto someone. This was something small, and pretty, and innocent. It made people feel good about themselves and made them smile when they thought they looked nice. I liked being able to help the other Victors, both by helping them actually put on the makeup and by telling them what looked good with their skin or eyes. It made me feel like things were normal again and might stay normal.

When we were done, I could hardly tell who some of us were. Loki had a full face of glamour makeup on and was wearing a sparkly dress. Pray's hair was bleached white and spiked up, and she'd painted spots on her face and her sharpened nails were black. Powder and glitter lay in puddles around the room. Lipstick was smeared on walls and mirrors, and the air smelled of perfume and hairspray.

But we looked _fabulous._

* * *

 **Worry not, the products used on Labyrinth were animal-safe.**


	54. Epilogue

Randy Mills- Victor

The Victory Tour stops blurred into each other. I hadn't really done anything during the Games. Laurel's unicorn was the one who killed Siobhan, and neither of us killed Cormac. So Two went by mostly quietly. I got a lot of dirty looks and angry mutters, but it wasn't my fault their Tributes didn't win and they knew it. At Ten I saw Aspasia's family. I didn't know what to say.

It was only Seven that was hard. I'd known it was coming. My heart just about broke when I saw Laurel's parents. Her father looked so much like her, it was like seeing her smart, beautiful eyes again. Her mother came up to me and hugged me, and I clung to her. She shook in my arms, her face buried in my chest. I held her gently and wished my arms were strong enough to hold her tight and safe forever and undo what she'd lost.

"Thank you for taking care of my baby," she whispered. I was glad she'd said it, and still it cut right through me. I didn't take care of her baby. Laurel was gone.

It was funny how nice it felt to get home. The Capitol was everything I loved. It was friendly and happy and colorful and sparkly. Nine was all brown grass and plain hills. Even the train station was boring compared to all the neon signs and lights of the Capitol stop. The people that came to greet me wore plain dresses and work shirts. But stepping off the train felt like kicking my shoes off after a long day of work, not that I'd ever really had a long day of work. I felt my lungs fill up as I breathed in air that smelled like wheat and dirt. I guess maybe it was because I felt like I didn't have to be anything anymore. Not pretty, or strong, or a Victor. I could finally relax.

I thought I was a grown-up, mature young man, but I was three years old as soon as I saw my mother. She was waving her arms and pushing at the crowd, trying to run to me. I jumped off the platform and bowled through the people, shoving my way through them and not even saying I was sorry. I got to Mom and picked her up by the waist, holding her halfway over the crowd as I ran with her to where we could have some room.

"I made it, Mom!" I said. "I'm back!"

"I love you, sweetie," Mom said. It was hard to understand, since she was crying so hard. She had the pinched, turned-up eyes face she only got when she was really happy.

"Im going to buy you a house, and lots of pretty dresses, and a porch swing like you always wanted!" I said. Mom laughed and cried at the same time.

"Randeeeeee!"

It was always funny seeing Narcissa in her Peacekeeper uniform. I always forgot that she had a normal job and spent all day doing tough Peacekeeper stuff, and that was most of the reason why she wanted to come home and relax with a pretty young man and do stupid things like shop. She made her way through the crowd, shooing people left and right.

"Gummy Bear! I missed you!" she said when she reached us. She liked to call me that, since I looked like a strong bear but was actually sweet like candy. "We have to catch up sometime!"

"Definitely," I said. "I need to see Mom first, of course, but let's get lunch next week. And this time, I'll get the check."

I always thought being a Victor looked hard. Nassor looked sad a lot of the time, and a lot of Victors were either messed up or addicted to stuff. But it wasn't that hard for me. I liked living in my fancy new house and hanging out with all the people who came to see me.

Most of all, I liked the money. To be exact, I liked giving it away. I liked buying candy and toys for random kids, and showing up at the school with tons of crayons and books and stuff. I liked to see my mom sitting on the white wicker swing I bought for her. I gave away lots of money to people my age who might have done the same stuff I did, but I didn't make them be my sugar babies. I just wanted to give them stuff. Most importantly, Narcissa helped me set up an engineering scholarship. I called it the Laurel Pine Fund for Young Inventors.

Some of my mommas thought I wouldn't want to be with them now that I was rich, but I liked my mommas. They were good people, or I wouldn't have spent time with them. They were mostly lonely ladies who just wanted friends like everyone else in the world. I hung out with them just like before, and the only difference was that now they didn't buy me stuff. We were just normal friends.

It felt like I was dishonoring the other Victors who went through so much pain, but the Games were kind of a good thing for me. I became a man in there, kind of. I met the best friends in the world. They learned that I wasn't just good for looking pretty and that my biggest regret wasn't even my fault. I met a unicorn and saw a selkie. No one else in the world could say that. I missed Laurel and it still hurt, but in my heart I knew she was something better now. I still felt pretty dumb sometimes and knew there was a lot of things I didn't know, but I was definitely more mature than before. Other than some of the Careers, I was just about the only Victor who wouldn't have traded the Games for anything. Not the friends I made, or the things I learned. There was a lot of sad stuff, but they were more than worth it.

* * *

 **Finally, the conclusion. It took a while, since I was at the range hating life and how loud rifles are. As usual, I'll be rolling right into the next SYOT. I was actually planning another Survivor Games with Silver, but she had some stuff come up, so we're delaying it and I'll do a normal Games this time. Reservations are kind of always open, and they're open now. I'll wait a few days before putting up the next story just because I like to take a breather and plan, but go ahead and get stuff ready. I'm sure I'll see you all there.**


End file.
